StarCrossed
by Teo
Summary: D/G. Draco and Ginny's stars have crossed, binding them together and resulting in a myriad of coincedences. Not that they have a choice in the matter... R/R please!
1. Weaves of Fate

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 1:

Weaves of Fate

          The night was young, and soon Professor Sibyll Trelawney would be forced to retire from her contemplation of the heavens in favor of some much-needed rest. She would rather, of course, remain on her rooftop and examine the patterns of the stars, read the weaves of fate. But tomorrow was to be the beginning of a new year at Hogwarts, and she would be busier than ever, under the circumstances, leaving her with less time to stargaze. Such was life.

          Above her the sky was a great sea of black with stars like fishes strewn across it. They were particularly bright now, the gems of the night, as if in anticipation of some glorious event unknown to all but the very jewels themselves. It was enough to make her wish herself a star, to shine above the dreary earth and behold the secrets of present, past, and future.

          Ah, but then she would be unable to puzzle such mysteries. Which would be the greater good? Knowing all, or the simple ability to wonder at all? She shook herself from her complex inner musings to examine the stars. They shone like the wise eyes of great wizards long-passed, but they held more beauty than answers. Once more her eyes panned the sky before she stood with a wistful sigh that would have sounded over-dramatized to anyone else.

          Tomorrow was to be the start of a new year at Hogwarts, and tomorrow was the start of a new duty besides her instruction in Divination. Yes, it would be a busy year for all, but the loss of spare time weighed most heavily – she was sure – on her mind. After all, with less time to read the signs of fate, who would warn the students of impending danger? Why, it was a wonder some of them were still breathing, especially the young Potter… she would just have to make time where she could. For the good of the students. Really, what _would_ they do without her?

          Professor Trelawney slipped through the trap door that led into her house, shutting it heavily behind her. It was then, when there was no one to see, that a star lit in unison with another across the sky. They flared bright for a moment before lurching towards each other, stopping just as abruptly before they could even begin to cross the chasm of sky and empty stars between them. They appeared to have halted, but if one were to chart their positions he would find the stars were moving still, ever so slowly, towards each other. If they continued on this path, surely the stars would collide… or perhaps, merely _cross._

          It truly was a pity Professor Trelawney retired when she did. Ah, well. Such is life. 

          It was that time of year again. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters fairly bustled with students ready to board the waiting Hogwarts Express – or not so ready, as in the case of Ginny Weasley.

          _God, I should have left this kind of nonsense behind with my first year,_ her mind growled, as she continued frantically to pile her luggage onto the nearby trolly. This was her fifth year – her fifth! – And, coincidentally, the first year she was running entirely too late for her own piece of mind. It was all Ron's fault, her harried mind assured her, in some twisted attempt of his to catch more sleep and drive her insane in the process. If there was one thing she had learned through enduring six older brothers, it was that boys slept like lumps. All of them. 

Ginny tried to glare holes through her brother's back, but very probably only succeeded in frightening Harry away from her for the rest of the trip as he was the one facing her way. No matter. He probably had a part in this as well. Yes, him and maybe the twins, too – that they had graduated already and were probably doing their very best impressions of a couple of logs at that moment didn't matter. The whole world was plotting against her this morning! 

Needless to say, Ginny's mind wasn't coping well with the stress and repeatedly repressed urge to leave her bags in a heap on the platform.

A rather annoyed sound escaped her throat as her tower of luggage nearly toppled once more. It was truly a wonder that she had even made it through the gate. Without bothering to stow her luggage or strap it down, she wheeled her cart towards the open train door. There were very few people left on the platform, so weaving around them was little problem, and she was beginning to think her bags were stable enough to make it aboard the waiting locomotive. Sadly, such feelings of security are all too often followed by decidedly insecure events.

"Move it, Weasley!"

Ginny jumped at the unexpected voice, turning jerkily and momentarily forgetting her arms were still attached to the handles of her cart. She promptly remembered that little detail when the entire thing tipped over and her rather large, hard-oak trunk landed on something other than concrete. Her frustration fizzled. In near awe at what she'd done, she shakily raised her eyes to those of the speaker. A brick of lead settled in her stomach and a warmth she was only too familiar with flooded her cheeks. The slate-grey eyes of Draco Malfoy stared back at her – or rather, they stared, widened with pain and shock, at the trunk that had crushed his foot beneath it.

Rather large? Bloody hell, her entire family could probably fit inside the thing!

"Oh, hell," he managed after a drawn out moment. Though, to his credit his voice was only slightly strangled. The comment shook Ginny from her shock and she knelt hurriedly to lift the box, profusely muttering apologies while trying to hide beneath her hair – which was as red as her cheeks by now. Why Malfoy, of all people? Wasn't it enough that he tormented her brother, and in effect, her whole family? _At least my headache is gone,_ she reminded herself dully, _and now I don't feel so frustrated. Maybe Malfoy is good for something after all._

"Good God, I didn't think a Weasley could possibly own enough to fill something that size." 

So much for that. Again she felt her face flush, but embarrassment had nothing to do with it.

By then she had piled her luggage uncertainly back atop the cart, and Malfoy stood nearby, his own baggage untouched beside him – a part of her dimly realized that he must have been late as well. He was currently paying more attention to brushing the imaginary dust off his clothing and testing his injured foot than he was to her. She could count the number of times they had spoken on one hand, and here he was brushing her off as if she were a piece of lint clinging to his cloak. He didn't even know her! He had probably even guessed she was a Weasley by the color of her hair.

"Listen, you ill-mannered, incons – " she was cut off by a shrill steam whistle.  Her eyes widened and before she could think about it she had taken off running with a hold on Draco's sleeve, ignoring his rather colorful protests. "Oh – we'll miss the train! Hurry!"

She flew up the steps with a natural grace, all her own, and proceeded to nearly fall flat on her face as she realized she still had her cart in tow and – simultaneously – that wheels and stairs don't mix. Before she could even begin to struggle, her entire cart rose off the steps enabling her to pull the baggage through the door. Malfoy followed her onboard, having as little trouble with his own bags as he had with hers. _When did he get so strong?_ She wondered as the train set into motion.

"Thanks," Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. He just snorted.

"Wish I could say the same to you – oh, wait; no I don't." He headed towards the nearest compartment, dragging his luggage behind him. He seemed to favor his right foot, she noted with guilty satisfaction.

"You could at least say you're welcome," Ginny huffed, frowning at his back. 

"Sure I could, Weasel," he replied, tossing his luggage into the compartment. "But the fact is, you're not." The sliding compartment door shut with a clack. A moment later it opened up again. "Oh yeah, don't touch my robes again – I don't want to get them dirty."

 What an insufferable git! Malfoy was everything Ron said he was, without a doubt. She pushed him out of her mind and left to find a compartment for herself. He really wasn't worth thinking about.

A search of the entire car turned up no room for Ginny. There were more First Years arriving at Hogwarts than there had been for a while, and the unfortunate result was less personal space for all. She stepped into the passage between cars, only to find it already occupied. A Sixth Year Prefect – the silver pin in the shape of a P on the collar of his robes identified him – motioned for her to stop with a hand. He looked as if he had swallowed a bad batch of Cockroach Clusters – actually he reminded her of Percy when something had gone wrong, minus the red hair and freckles. 

"I'm sorry," his voice was crisp and curt, and for the life of her she could not recall his name. "Access to this car has been restricted, you'll have to stay where you are. A couple of First Years set off some Fillibuster's – don't know what they were supposed to do, but they managed to destroy the Snack cart; Chocolate Frogs crawlin' all over the place. I've never seen a bigger mess." The prefect shuddered distastefully. "Well, you get the picture – sorry, can't let you in."

"But there's no room back there," Ginny told him, gesturing towards the car she had come from. Why did she have to board the last car? There was nowhere else to go if she couldn't move up the train.

The Prefect shook his head. "I apologize, we're all cramped for space. You'll just have to make room for yourself."

"Alright, then. Thank you," she nodded sullenly. This had to be the worst day of her life… _second worst,_ she corrected herself, thinking back to her First Year. She wheeled her cart down the hall and stopped in front of the door she had seen Malfoy disappear behind.

Swiftly she slid the door open, slipping in her luggage before herself and squaring her shoulders. She expected to be met with opposition, not the sound of deep, even breathing. The Slytherin was stretched out across the plush seat bolted into the compartment wall, propped up against one of his bags and looking for all the world as if a foul word had never escaped his lips. 

Ginny glanced around the compartment and noted it was empty but for the two of them with a twist of her lips. Malfoy was a selfish prat… but he was an adorable one. _Even if he is a cold, heartless, cruel, arrogant git at least he has one thing going for him._ She leaned her bags against the door, unwilling to make a sound that would wake him. He was, after all, much more pleasant when he was sleeping. 

Recently her fifteenth birthday had passed, and from Charlie she had received a magnificent new journal. Oh, she rarely used her journals as diaries, she had learned her lesson with those, but there were a number of things one could do with blank pages. Maybe she would get a chance to use it, if she could get it from her luggage quietly enough. It was a lovely thing – bound in black dragon-hide with dark green thread worked into it artfully. Certainly she wouldn't have picked it for herself, but it was nice all the same.

As she contemplated digging for her journal, the train jolted heavily and her bags were slammed into the doorway, the large trunk scraping against the doorway loudly, only catching against the doorknob momentarily before falling to the floor. Draco woke with a start, sitting up and narrowing his eyes in her direction.

"What the hell…?" he sounded only faintly groggy. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, well…" Ginny shifted her feet uncomfortably. She felt almost guilty for waking him, and his slit-eyed stare wasn't helping her composure. "There were no seats left, except this one – " she started suddenly and turned her frown on him "– Why do _you_ have a seat all to yourself when every other compartment is packed?"

He blinked. "Because I'm me," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And you're not, and that's why you'll have to leave and find somewhere else to spread your muggle-loving filth."

"Oh, excuse me. I didn't realize you were the center of the universe," she retorted, finding a place on one of the seats.

"You must be rather daft, then, Weasel. Now get out."

"No. There's nowhere else to go, anyway."

"Do I look like I care?"

"You _look_ like a spoiled child!"

"At least my family could _afford_ to spoil me."

"What did you say!?"

"I said…"

And so begins the tale of our two star-crossed lovers… who argued for so long over who would stay in the compartment that the train arrived at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry before they were finished. 

Neither one noticed, as an attendant opened their door to alert them of the arrival, that the lock on the door had broken under the weight of Ginny's trunk in such a way that it would be all but impossible to open the door from the inside. They would certainly notice later. Much later.

A/N: Gosh…. I don't know what to say…. Umm… please review! And don't kill me for the way I write Draco… I hope he's not too OOC… *hangs head in shame* Why did I post this…? Well, the next chapter is coming up soon… see ya.

 


	2. The Beginning

Chapter 2:

The Beginning

          The entire week had been a perfect image of Draco's worst nightmare. Since the morning he had woken up late, his head pounding weakly, on that first day up to the current second. First there had been the train ride with that Weasley girl, then the abnormally long sorting of the recent infestation of First Years, and after that he had discovered – to his utmost surprise, I might add – that Pansy Parkinson _still hadn't gotten a clue. But that wasn't all, oh no. Due to recent events, he had come to the conclusion that either the littlest weasel had taken to shadowing him, or his life was hell and fate was trying to make it worse._

          Naturally, the second conclusion was much favored over the first.

          In his entire life Draco had never run into someone so many times as he had run into Virginia Weasley during the last five days. It was mostly only a mere crossing of paths between classes, and they rarely spoke – when they did the arguments were explosive – but it was rather unsettling to almost _expect_ that flicker of red in the corner of his eye. Honestly, two consecutive days hadn't gone by when he didn't at least catch sight of her. Usually it was more than that.

          Draco shook his head. And now he was here in the Great Hall with every other student at Ten O'clock in the morning on a Saturday, Just as Dumbledore had requested. The old goat obviously had something to announce – something big, he suspected. The staff had been dropping hints all week. With the firm conviction that whatever the announcement turned out to be wouldn't interest him, Draco went back to contemplating his half-eaten breakfast. The rest of the Slytherins, most notably Crabbe and Goyle, continued to dig in on all sides of him.

          He hadn't slept well last night, though he had a room of his own set aside in the Slytherin Dorm where he could escape the raucous snoring of his henchmen. All Slytherin Prefects had their own rooms, kept secret from the other houses, and used as incentive to achieve the rank. Few Slytherins were made prefects, compared to the numbers from the other houses. Draco glanced down distastefully at his pin, nearly hidden in the folds of his cloak. How _he_ had been chosen to wear it he would never know. It wasn't something he aspired to – in his opinion Prefects were all stuck-up pricks – but he supposed it was just as well. Lucius and Narcissa would have expected no less of him.

          The food vanished suddenly from his plate and from all the plates in the Great Hall. All conversations were continued in hushed whispers. Dumbledore, at the head of the Staff table, rapped a utensil against his goblet in a gesture for quiet that was largely unnecessary. The whispers ceased. In the silence Draco swore he could the collective turning of the students' heads towards their aged headmaster.    

          "My friends," Dumbledore began, and Draco fought back a snort. _Friends…? What is this, a bloody tea party?_ "Many a year has passed since the tradition of Hogwarts first began. These very grounds have been host to the four founders of our school just as they are host to you now. For many of you, Hogwarts has, or will, become more than a place of learning, more than a castle you've been shipped off to – I hope that for most of you, Hogwarts will be a second home as it was to the first generation of students to walk these halls." By this point Draco was sure Dumbledore had charmed his voice against unwilling ears. "Since the time of our founders, fifteen hundred generations have made a home in Hogwarts, and so it is with great pleasure, and great honor, that I announce the 1500th anniversary of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. May it stand to see another."

          The announcement was met with enthusiastic applause and where the Great Hall had been a tomb during Dumbledore's speech it was astir with excited chatter. Draco caught sight of the little Weasley girl. She was talking animatedly to some equally ecstatic Gryff beside her. He averted his eyes before she noticed them on her – it was only a glance, but he had accidentally caught her eye in a number of their 'run-ins' and often as not it lead to confrontation which wasn't something he was in the mood for.

          He was a light sleeper by nature, and used to being kept up by the snoring of his fellow Slytherins in the dorms, but he didn't particularly enjoy being drowsy all day. It put him in something of a foul mood – well, more foul than usual, anyway. Absently, he wished breakfast had been left on the table, as pushing it around on his plate would better occupy his mind than anything Dumbledore had to say.

          So the old excuse for a castle was fifteen hundred years old. Maybe now it was rotted enough to fall over and save everyone a lot of grief. And annoyance too. Oh, yes, plenty of that.

            "In honor of this occasion," Dumbledore's voice silenced the Hall, "the staff and I have scheduled a ball – " again the students broke out in excited conversation. They were silenced by a wave of Dumbledore's hand " – It is to be held this Spring, and will be a _most formal occasion. The ball will be themed after the time period in which the last Anniversary took place five hundred years ago, and in light of that fact you will all meet here at this time each week to be instructed in the proper form with which to attend."_

          Groans filled the air and Draco fought the urge to scowl furiously. Learn proper conduct? For a _ball? And on Saturdays to boot? Ridiculous. Dumbledore chuckled before motioning once more for silence._

          "If it is any consolation, the students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will be suffering the same fate, as parties from both schools will be attending." More agreeable murmurs rose from the crowded Hall. "However, I'm afraid actual lessons won't begin until next week, but you will be assigned partners to practice with – There will be no switching of partners allowed. Minerva, if you would."

          As Dumbledore seated himself, Professor McGonagall rose from her seat, surveying the collection of students with a strict, stony gaze. That stare didn't phase Draco, as it had very early on in his Hogwarts career. If there was one thing he was sure about McGonagall, it was that her bark was a whole lot worse than her bite. She was only trouble if you were foolish enough to get caught. _I was a stupid eleven-year-old, _Draco thought, rolling his eyes back towards the stern head of Gryffindor. She frowned at the crowd in general. Some First Years were probably close to wetting themselves.

          "I'm only going to say this once," she said, her voice the same harsh monotone he had enjoyed since his first year. "First and Second Years will be allowed to attend, but there will be a strict curfew. Any First or Second Years caught out after Ten O'clock will be severely punished. Third Years have until Eleven-thirty. You are required to dress and act as if in that age – as will all attending students, whether from Hogwarts or one of the visiting schools. I will be instructing you in speech and etiquette, and Professor Trelawney is to instruct you in formal ballroom dancing. Additional information concerning the era will be given during you regularly scheduled History of Magic class."

          She swept her gaze across the hall one more time before she spoke again. "Now, if all of you would lift your plates you – Not until I am finished speaking please! – Now, beneath your plates you will find a card with the name of our assigned partner. Once you have taken the card, simply stand and wait for further instructions."

          The sound of moving glass filled the Hall, but Draco didn't touch his own plate. He glanced down the table at Parkinson who was, thankfully, not seated anywhere near him. She was staring dolefully at a card no larger than her hand. Must not have been him, then. He stopped himself from sighing in relief and lifted his plate. Surely, he could deal with anyone else.

          _Virginia Weasley_

          Surely.

          In retrospect, he really should have expected it.

          Feeling the gaze of his new found partner on him, he raised his eyes to meet it coolly. And wonder of wonders, she was glaring at him. _As if this is somehow all my fault._

          Suddenly, McGonagall's voice cut through the din of the student's chatter, and Draco barely remembered to stand before the furniture vanished from the room. "If you have received a card the color of your own house, remain where you are. If not, you are to find your partner and take a place across from them. Now, quickly."

          The last words were snapped out, and they sent the students into motion before she could even complete them. Shoving the red card with gold lettering into his pocket, Draco leisurely joined the crowd, managing to keep his face impassive. Not only did he have to move, but he had to move for a Weasley – he was becoming fairly cross with the entire situation and, had he been anyone else, probably would have been scowling for all he was worth. He stopped a short distance in front of the redhead. At least there was one consolation. Already, he could feel the smirk tugging at his lips. Ah, she was livid. 

          He gave her a catty near grin – she hated that one. In turn her tongue shot out at him and was back inside her mouth before anyone else took notice.

          Draco raised a brow. "You're quite the lovely little flower, aren't you? That had to be the most mature thing I've ever seen."

          "Only you would think so," she retorted hotly. Then she let out a sigh and her shoulders sagged. "I thought this was going to be such fun… and then I got paired with you. How could this have happened? We're not even in the same house!"

          He almost felt sorry for her… oh, wait, no it was probably just pity. Either way, he shook it off without giving it a second thought.

          "It's just some crackpot scheme of Dumbledore's to demote house rivalry," he scoffed at her. It was true, though, the houses had been at it like never before. "He's full of rubbish, if you ask me, and so is anyone who would think that this pathetic excuse for a celebration is going to be anything more than a graveyard for those who want to die of boredom."

          "Well, in case you hadn't noticed, no one _is asking you!"_

          Draco opened his mouth to reply, but McGonagall beat him to it. Old bat.

          "This is where you will meet every week from now on," she began, and Draco – as well as many of the other students – found that this time he was able to let her voice fade into the background as he would do, undoubtedly, for many Saturdays to come.

          It was the start of much unpleasantness. 

A/N: I realize this chapter is a bit dull, but it's necessary to the (semi-non-existant) plot. I have kind of a hard time writing in Draco's POV… so I hope he's alright… Oh! Thanks for the reviews, I'm now going to take the time to answer them:

Robyn Maddison: Heh… I suppose you're right. Nothing better than a good D/G ^^!

Carrot Top: Well, here's the next chapter – hope you didn't have to wait too long. Glad you liked it ^^

Laura: Thanks – as you can see, I am continuing, and hopefully will for some time… ^^; I hope this chapter wasn't too boring for you…

Kelsey McCartney: hehe… *bows head in embarrassment* Your review was so flattering… I know I didn't update real soon this time, but I'll try and update faster in the future.

Socchan: Er… no, Professor Trelawney won't be playing matchmaker, but now that you mention it it's an interesting idea… you're right though, I already have other things planned so I don't think that'll be happening. *sighs* actually, it looks like they'll be bickering for a few chapters… And I know what you mean about being in a section you know nothing about – I use a different name sometimes… -.- which is actually sort of weird now that I think about it…

Mandy: Ugh! You better not criticize me – you know my fragile ego can't take it… but don't worry about the updates – shouldn't be any longer than a week at the most. Still, you could always criticize my d/g shippiness… that's mostly what I pick on in your story…


	3. Preparation

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter Three:

Preparation

          The past few weeks had flown by, despite the various forms of preparation for the upcoming Anniversary Ball – which, Draco was fairly sure, would only become more extensive and tedious as said waste-of-time drew nearer. Hogwarts was under the rather heavy influence of a rigidly formal event, and as much as he enjoyed the weekly Saturday sessions, the ceaseless chatter of excited preppies, and the astounding increase in opportunities to be bored to death in History of Magic, Draco was already anticipating the winter break with more fervor than usual.

            Which was to say he had begun to believe that spending two weeks in Malfoy Manor might be more pleasurable than spending the same time at Hogwarts. 'Might' being the key word there.

          Call it a miracle, but the school staff had somehow managed to keep the work level the same throughout the preparations. So he, along with everyone else, was still assigned that extra potions essay. In fact that was the very reason he was standing in the library and fighting hard not to scowl openly at Madame Pince as she said:

          "I'm sorry, but the book you've requested has already been checked out by Miss Granger. I believe she's seated over there –" this in itself was bad enough, but the words that came next fell upon his ears like a sentence of death "– with Miss Weasley, if you wish to work out a compromise."

          Ah, the little weasel. He had nearly forgotten about her – oh, wait – no he hadn't. How could he when it was an oddity _not to see her face less than seven times a week? He hadn't spoken to her at all that day, and had hoped to keep it that way until nightfall – it being merely a midweek afternoon, that wasn't likely to happen. It was absolutely misfortunate that he __needed that book. Without a word, Draco turned from Madame Pince and made his way towards the two Gryffindor._

          "Granger."

          Two heads shot up, though he had only spoken one name – well, okay, he had spat it out rather distastefully. Same concept.

          The brunette narrowed her eyes just slightly, a guarded look crossing her face. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

          Inwardly, Draco was sighing miserably – the things he had to put up with. Hopefully she wouldn't still be _too bitter about the old mud-blood comments. "Only that book – though I must say I want it considerably less now that I've seen your filthy hands all over it."_

          She took a quick glance at the book in her hands. 'Potent Potions,' it was entitled, 'A Wizard's Guide to Powerful Concoctions.' When she looked back up, her gaze was cold.

          "I don't believe you have the right to call my hands filthy…" Her eyes swept over him shortly in a speculative glance. "Considering the general lack of sanitation among ferrets."

 Draco only raised an eyebrow at the would-be insult. The words didn't affect him much; such things rarely did. But really, did she _have_ to refer to that incident? It happened two bloody years ago for Merlin's sake! 

He was about to open his mouth to anger her further – er… attempt to reach a compromise concerning study habits… when a muffled snorting sound erupted from Granger's right.

          Having only ever been witness to the rough side of Ginny's temper, it was something of a shock to see her struggling in vain to mask her giggles behind a hand. After a moment she gave it up and clutched her stomach, her entire form shaking with laughter. And, oddly enough, that laughter sparked his anger more than any insult ever had.

          "Ferret!" she gasped, slowing finally, "I had… nearly forgotten!"

          "Oh, that was just the highlight of your life wasn't it?" he spat out, voice dripping with sarcasm.

          "Not even if I dropped dead this instant," she retorted cheerfully.

          "What was it, then? When Potter finally decided to pay attention to you? – Oh, excuse me, that's never happened."

          Sure it was something of a low blow, but those were often the most painful, or at least the most infuriating. Either way, Draco was instantly gratified when the redhead's eyes turned to slits. She was mad and she looked it – just the knowledge that he had caused such rage was enough to banish his own anger. Which was strange because it was a different sort of feeling than he got from bothering the muggle-born girl.

          "You must be running out of material if you've resorted to bringing Harry into this." Her glare was enough to melt ice. Ice, but not him. Draco smirked widely. 

          "And you must be fawning over Scarhead if you're still defending him."

          "I wasn't defending anyone – I was insulting you –"

          He scoffed. "You weren't doing a very good job."

          "Oh, like you're one to talk! I'll have you know I was _terribly insulted when you suggested I still fancied Harry just now."_

          "Sarcasm from a Weasley? I never thought I'd see the day."

          "Ugh, you're right, that's more you're style – excuse me while I scrub out my mouth for a few hours."

          "Hm. You're full of surprises today, Weasel. Here I thought cleanliness was above y –" He was cut off abruptly by the slamming of a book.

          "Enough! You two can continue fighting like an old married couple as long as you want to, but I'm going to finish my essay in peace!" Granger stood, glaring at them both before whirling around to stalk out of the room. They watched, stunned, as she gave them one last glance. "And I'm taking the book." 

          Ginny was the first to break the momentary spell. "Mione! You can't be serious! Like a married – Oh, wait! I –" The library door slammed. "Still need… you're help…" Draco watched as she dropped into a chair, sighing in defeat. 

He actually wasn't quite sure what to do; the book (which had been completely forgotten as soon as the little weasel had started laughing) was out of his grasp, he would probably not be able to finish his essay on time, Snape would have a hissy fit, and he had stopped caring about all that a while back. It didn't seem to matter anymore.

"What crawled up her arse?" he asked after a moment, frowning when she answered without looking at him.

"She's been wound up about something lately," Ginny told him absently, burying her head into the pillow of her forearms. "Agh, Hermione, I'll never finish this now…"

"Granger's gone, you know. She can't hear you," Draco couldn't resist pointing out. He was oddly disappointed when she didn't answer. "Oh, alright, what is it that you're so horribly bad at – besides nearly everything?"

Finally she glanced at him, albeit suspiciously. "Am I to believe," she began slowly, "That you actually want to know? That you might just care enough to try and help me?"

"Believe whatever you like. I'm just asking."

"Are you really going to help me?" Suspicion had given way to surprise across her features, and the little bit of hope that crept into her eyes made them irresistible. 

"No."

Then he walked out of the library, and though he didn't look back, he was quite satisfied to hear her groan in outright frustration. He headed off in the direction of the Slytherin dorms, beginning more and more to care again about that damned potions essay as the dungeons drew nearer.

It was over a week before they spoke so much again, and Ginny had been happily counting the number of days that she and Malfoy hadn't had what counted as a conversation (The forced exchange of words during last week's proper speech lessons not being tallied) when they abruptly ended on a fine Saturday morning. Well, actually 'fine' didn't quite describe… oh, alright, the weather was cold, and misery hung over the majority of the Great Hall like a sopping cloak. It was the second lesson in Ballroom Dancing so far.

Ginny was most likely going to end up arguing with her partner this time, though. She didn't know how she knew, but it was most likely the way Malfoy was glaring at her from beneath the Gryffindor banners that tipped her off. 

He really did look out of place in the area where her house table normally took up space, though there were actually quite a few temporary faces. There were more so, in fact, than permanent ones. Looking around the Hall, Ginny could see that indeed most couples were of different houses, if not different years as well. But no one looked quite as out of place in her mind as Draco did.

His platinum hair – so fair she was almost sure it was white – and skin like marble clashed terribly with the house colors of red and gold. The piercing grey eyes that had met hers more often than she would have liked were too cold to be found on any Gryffindor. And, certainly, no one else – let alone a member of her own house – could sneer like he could. It was that unpleasant sneer that made her sure he was in foul mood, which meant he was sure to insult her, which she simply wouldn't take. He turned his head, and Ginny swept her eyes across the Great Hall before he noticed her studying him.

"It's rude to stare, Weasel." 

Too late.

"I'm surprised you're aware of that," she replied as coolly as she could. Weasel was not the most flattering nickname. Thankfully, Professor Trelawney began to speak, her voice cutting through the din of the students, before he could retort.

          "My dears," she began from where she stood at the head of the Great Hall. Ginny still hadn't gotten used to hearing the divination teacher's voice outside of her dingy classroom, but then she still wasn't used to verbally battling Draco Malfoy roughly once or twice a week. It was turning out to be an odd year, to say the least. "Take the starting position you remember from our first lesson, please."

          Ginny glanced at her partner, and he grinned back at her. Sometimes she hated that grin – oh, who was she kidding? She hated it all the time. Malfoy reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of fine, black gloves, sliding them onto his long-fingered hands.

          "Don't want to dirty my hands now," he said, and Ginny could only gag, though she got the odd feeling that his words didn't contain as much venom as they could have. They both stepped towards each other, right hands meeting palm-to-palm between them. "Should have thought of this sooner. It's brilliant."

            "But aren't your gloves getting dirty, then?" she asked him mockingly. He snorted as if the question were ridiculous.

          "Better them than me. Not to worry, though, I'll burn these and buy a new pair every week just for this."

          "You sure know how to make a girl feel special," Ginny said dryly, though a part of her was a bit put off that the words they had just exchanged were nearly almost semi-friendly. It was something of a relief when any chance for further talk was halted by Professor Trelawney's voice.

          The last Ballroom Dancing lesson had been basic and fairly dull, but this week things seemed to be moving faster with Professor Trelawney barking out directions and expecting the students to follow. Or, perhaps, knowing they would – if you bought into that sort of thing.

           The first dance they were learning – called the Pavane – seemed to have little to do with actual dancing and more to do with moving around your partner while touching palms. It wasn't so bad, and it could be done in a large group, but it wasn't exactly all that she had hoped for. She glanced at Draco, who had somehow managed to look both focused and incredibly bored at the same time, and told herself he was at least part of the problem.

          They were just coming back around to the starting position when Professor Trelawney ended her instructions and caught the Hall's attention with a wave of her hand.

          "There are many of you," she said as if revealing a great secret, "who have yet to open yourselves to the spirit of the dance. Before the year is out though, I assure you, all will have mastered the steps, but for now some will fail while others will have great success. This couple, for instance –" She shot a finger towards the crowd.

          It was through a mixture of shock and horror that Ginny realized Professor Trelawney was pointing at her. Her and Malfoy.

          Ginny could _feel_ Ron's eyes burning angry holes in her back. Or maybe it was Malfoy he was glaring at. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Ron had been lucky enough to be paired with Hermione, and had so far been too distracted – especially with things being oddly strained between him and his long-time crush – to really take note of her misfortune.  He would, undoubtedly, slip into 'over-protective older brother mode' – which could be a dangerous thing, given the right conditions. A sigh nearly escaped her lips; of all her brothers, Ron had the worst habit of being irrational.

"You will repeat what I've just taught you, and I know you will do marvelously. Now, my dears, begin." 

Only vaguely did Ginny recall the steps she had just attempted to perform, and she could tell Malfoy was in the same boat by the semi-baffled look in his eye, though his face remained impassive. This was about as ruffled as she had seen him get.

 Nervously, she glanced around at the assembly of students and her waiting instructor who was already making an impatient gesture with her hand. With utter humiliation written all over her face Ginny began to move and so did her partner.

But the odd thing was they _did_ do marvelously. 

Where the first time she had gone through it Ginny's movements had been halting and uncertain they were now fluid. The humiliation on her countenance gave way to wonder. She felt remarkably at ease, considering her situation, as she switched hands with Draco and completed the short set of steps beneath the gaze of the entire student body and a beaming divination teacher.

It was all she could do to meet his eyes with her wide ones. He looked almost surprised himself. So shocked was Ginny that he almost didn't hear as the Great Hall broke out in applause and Professor Trelawney began to speak to them. 

"Just as I foresaw," she said, nodding sagely. "Professor Dumbledore knew what he was doing when he forged these partnerships –"

"W-what?" Ginny squeaked. "Professor Dumbledore did this?"

"Why, yes, child – did you think such things were chosen at random? A variety of things were taken into consideration when the partners were chosen. We had to make sure all the couples would work well together, of course it was ultimately fate that decided…" but she had already stopped listening.

Out of the entire Hogwarts population, she was supposed to work best with Draco Malfoy. Disbelief soon gave way to an odd unsettling sort of feeling and she glanced at her partner – who, for his part, looked somewhat disgusted – with a frown. 

He was the biggest prat she'd ever met! So what if he was an excellent dancer? So what if her skin nearly tingled where her hand met his gloved one? So what if he was attractive? _Really attracti – So What! As far as Ginny was concerned, she would never _ever_ work well with a giant git like him!_

Though, to her discredit, she just had.  

A/N: Er…. Yeah… well think of this chapter as a… filler – I can't really have them do anything until they're sorta familiar with each other so… agh, whatever – I hope that was at least semi-amusing. My apologies if it wasn't.

FiCtIoNfAn: Soon enough for you ^^? …Actually it took a little longer than it should have to get this up… -.- sorry, but I'm glad you liked it.

Socchan: Well, it's not a _real_ pen name. I just make something up on the spot and don't sign in… Stupid, yes? Ah, well, I don't do it that often, anyway.

Waterfairy-rose: Hehe – you think Draco is in character? *sighs in relief* I hope he still is… I try to write him kind of sarcastically, but I don't think it works very well… Ack! Now I've run out of things to say ^^!

Mandy: I still am trying to convince you, no worries – but what do you mean 'other than the pairing'!? It doesn't get any better than this… at least in the HP section…  


	4. After Midnight

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 4:

After Midnight

          It was nearing half-past midnight, and only starlight brightened the Gryffindor Fifth Year girls' dorm. The lamps had long since been put out, and the bed curtains drawn closed. All was quiet but for the gentle snores and deep breathing of the room's sleeping occupants and in that profound, gentle silence a rumble took to the air. 

          Ginny rolled over beneath her sheets for the thousandth time, clutching her empty stomach. Oh, but she was hungry! She had missed dinner completely and only eaten a very light lunch. Like all her brothers she had inherited a fondness for food and so, hunger bore into her more strongly than it might on oh… say… Hermione – who was, along with Ron, entirely at fault for her missing dinner in the first place.

          Yes, the two of them had been friends since First Year. Yes, Ginny had caught them holding hands (or engaging in other activities…) often enough to know they were much more than that. And yes, the two of them got on famously – when they weren't at each other's throats, that is. They fought with each other almost as much as she did with Malfoy. 

          Generally they only argued over little things, like Ron's study habits, but every so often they would explode. Not that Ginny ever worried for them – if she herself deemed it puke-worthy to watch them making up after one of their _smaller_ fights, then one can only guess at what happens after a larger tiff, since no one is willing to stay and find out. 

          But this time Hermione seemed to be truly hurt, and Ron seemed to be truly at a loss as to what he ought to do about it. Ginny to the rescue! _Ugh! Just because I don't have a love life of my own to speak of, _she thought, frowning, _doesn't mean I have time to sit around and help others with theirs!_ Honestly she had been more than happy to help at the time, but now that her stomach was kissing her spine rather noisily she was singing a different tune.

          A growl like the sound of a dying cat flew into the darkness and Ginny made up her mind then and there. She needed food and there was one place to get it. 

She slipped out from beneath her covers and crawled to the edge of her bed where she set her trunk. After rummaging through it she finally came to her pile of ragged footwear. She needed new shoes, and badly. Glancing from her nearly too-small sneakers to the cold stone floor and back again, she decided to settle for socks. She pulled on a robe and slipped a pair of stockings over her bare feet. They would be quieter anyway.

It was as she wandered down the stairs and out of the Gryffindor common room that having six (seven counting Harry) older brothers finally seemed to have some sort of benefit for Ginny. Ron had let slip the secret to entering the kitchens. Percy, in his eagerness to discuss his responsibilities as Prefect, had mentioned the hall patrols only lasted until around midnight. And from the twins she had picked up all the different ways to creep around the castle. 

No, getting to the kitchens as she had done many times before would not be a problem – all she had to do was avoid Filch. Actually staying there, however, would prove to be a difficult task, as Ginny discovered upon entering the kitchens and finding it devoid of the house elves who delighted her with their strange way of speaking and long-eared presence. In their place was one slimy blonde Slytherin, seated on a tall stool by the counter. He looked surprised to see her.

"What the hell are you doing here!?"

He _was surprised to see her._

"Oh, I suppose it's against the rules to grab a midnight snack?" her stomach growled for emphasis. Draco lowered his brows at her.

"Actually… it _is_ against the rules…" He turned from her to the steaming mug he had been nursing as if she were below his notice. It was strange, the way perfect outrage between them faded sometimes into bare tolerance. It didn't happen often, but it was there. It was the reason one of them hadn't simply got up and left the room. It was the reason Malfoy hadn't shot some 'witty' retort at her – well, actually that was probably just good fortune, and it would be foolish to question it… but that didn't stop her from questioning everything else. Damn her curiosity.

"You're a Prefect, aren't you?" She glanced at the pin on his robe, already knowing the answer. "And you're not going to report me?"

"No. You're not worth my time."

Ginny decided to ignore that last remark. "Why not? You ill or something?" she asked, pulling up a stool beside him.

"My patrol shift ended a half hour ago – it would be stupid."

"Oh…Where'd the house elves disappear to?"

"Full of questions this evening, aren't you, Weasley?" he drawled, looking somewhat exasperated. "They don't like me. There is more than one room around here. You put it together." She digested this silently for a moment, wondering when house elves found the time to sleep. "Nice pajamas, by the way."

With an almost terrified squeak and a blush that covered her entire face, Ginny closed her robes over the old night gown she had forgotten she was wearing. It was pink – or it had been once, though it was so faded now it looked nearly white – and the thing was so utterly girlish it was decorated with blue stars and golden crescent moons and slightly ruffled at the hem and sleeves. The only good thing about it was that it hadn't yet gotten too short, still able to brush the backs of her knees, but that wasn't much of a counter point. It was terribly ugly, but her mother wouldn't buy her a new one on the grounds that 'no one really sees what you wear to bed.'

And Draco Malfoy _had_ seen her wearing it, and most likely _did_ care, and he was probably laughing his ass off at that very moment. But when Ginny finally summoned up the courage to peek at him from beneath her hair she found that he wasn't. He certainly looked amused – very, very amused – but he wasn't actually laughing.

She took a chance and attempted to form a coherent response.

"I… could say the same to you."

It didn't work very well.

"No you couldn't. These are my clothes."

"Oh… so they are…" she said, nodding once to herself in confirmation. Her stomach was eating itself by now…

"Not your night, is it, Weasel? Tell me, has your head been injured recently? Because that would explain –"

"Oh, quiet! I can't think when I'm starving!"            

          As if on cue a rather small door creaked open in the corner of the room and a head peeked out.

          "Is Miss wanting something?"

          Ginny eagerly hopped off her stool and neared the house elf. "Yes, please, I'm very hungry – have you got any… sausages? Or Yorkshire pudding?" She distinctly heard Draco mutter, "Sausages and pudding?" from behind her, and could almost see the expression of mixed disgust and surprise, but… it didn't anger her as it should have. Rather… it made her want to laugh. 

          When she looked back on it, their conversation thus far had held a tinge of … of – well if she didn't know better she would have said friendliness, but that was quite impossible. It was like his mocking her with those gloves a week and five days ago (it being a Thursday night, or Friday morning, really) only a little bit more so. Ginny was somewhat in awe of how easy it was to leave the venom from her words.

          "Yes, yes. Can Norry get anything else for Miss?"

          Ginny blinked, pulled out of her thoughts by the high pitched question. "Ah… no, thanks – oh, wait! Is Dobby around? Can you send him out?"

          It was in her fourth year when she had first begun to visit the kitchens that she had met the incorrigible house elf who was featured every so often in Ron's chatter. Instantly she had taken a liking to him, and his amusing antics. He had seemed so terribly happy when she had given him a spotted tie for Christmas (though he had requested socks if she were ever to be so kind again) that Ginny couldn't help but continue to visit. Besides that, house elves made wonderful company when one was lonely (or hungry, for that matter).

          "Why, yes, Miss. Norry will fetch Dobby if it pleases Miss – and Norry won't forget the pudding and the sausage. No, no." The elf, Norry, gave a little bow and scurried off deeper into the kitchens to fulfill her requests. Ever eager to please, house elves were, and Ginny had learned early on that there was no way to get them to change. 

          "What could you possibly want with my old house elf? And pudding with sausage for that matter?"

          She turned to glance at Draco, remembering just who it was Harry had freed the little elf from. "That's right he was yours, wasn't he?" She cocked her head at him. "I don't think he likes you very much."

          "Big surprise," Malfoy rolled his eyes then muttered as if to himself, "Not as if _I was the one ordering him around…"  _

          "Oh, I'm sure you were bad enough," she told him flippantly, turning back to the door as it creaked open again and a familiar face popped out. Upon seeing her Dobby smiled excitedly and opened the door, bearing a tray piled high with steaming sausages and dishes of Yorkshire pudding. She took the tray grinning back at him, silently marveling at the speed at which house elves were able to do their work.

          "Miss Ginny! Dobby is not often seeing Ginny after dark. Is Miss Ginny needing something from Dobby?" 

          Smiling, Ginny shook her head, sending strands of red flying all over. "I just came down for a midnight snack and thought I'd say hello. Come and sit with me?"

          She headed back towards her abandoned stool by the counter, but Dobby remained where he was, looking quite rigid in his long, droopy socks, plaid shorts, and tie. With a sigh she looked from him, to Draco – who was paying more attention to his mug than the elf – and back. That Malfoy _always troubled her in some way, even when he wasn't being as much of a prat as usual. _

          "Dobby… is very busy, Miss Ginny. Perhaps Miss Ginny might come another time?"

          "Alright…" she began, but the house elf was already gone. Setting down her tray she cast cold eyes over Draco, wishing she had something to hit him with, though truthfully she wasn't all that angry. "You scared him away!"

          "You just carried on a conversation with a house elf," he told her stonily. "A house elf wearing socks with… pigs on them."

          "I… don't see how that's of any relevance…" she faltered, then added on a side note, "and they're cats, not pigs – I rather like them." 

          "It's not. But I can't begin to tell you how odd you looked doing it." Ginny raised an eyebrow.

          "Don't I _always_ look odd to you?"

          "That's right. Thanks for reminding me."

          "Any time."

            With that she turned her focus towards the tray in front of her and dug in with relish, beginning with the sausages. They were still warm from the pan and absolutely delicious – almost as good as her mum's! And that was saying something. So engrossed was she with the filling of her empty stomach that all thoughts of a certain Slytherin faded from her mind. That's why she was nearly startled as she bit into her fourth sausage – no, fifth or maybe sixth – oh, who was counting anyway? She was startled when Draco spoke.

          "Could you possibly make more noise with that?" It was strange to hear the taunts without the sneer, but Ginny didn't try to examine that odd companionable feeling. Draco wasn't sneering, he wasn't even looking at her. He appeared to be grimacing into his mug. "I think the entire castle hasn't heard you yet."

          A grin lit Ginny's face and she purposely began to eat more noisily, smacking her lips together, and taking exaggerated gulps of food. Draco cringed next to her, his face twisting in disgust – it had a nasty habit of doing that around her. Just like she had a nasty habit of narrowing her eyes around him.

          "What was that? I didn't hear you correctly."

          "Alright, I'll repeat it for you. I said: you disgust me more than anything else on this planet."

          "Really?" she asked, not at all bothered by the blatant insult. "Even more than Harry? Or Ron?"

          He appeared to think on her question for a moment, staring into whatever filled the cup in his hands. She didn't know exactly what he had been drinking – or, rather, not drinking – but it smelled pleasantly like coffee and warm chocolate. 

          "It's different," he said finally. "I hate them. You, I simply find disgusting."

          Ginny blinked, caught off-guard by the statement. "But… you hate me too, right?"  

          "No – not really. And at least you can throw out an insult without trying to rearrange my face – which is more than I can say for your twit of a brother."

          "That was nearly a compliment, Malfoy! You sure you're not ill?"

          "Don't get the wrong idea," Draco's eyes widened fractionally in an alarmed manner. "I still dislike you intensely. And I'm perfectly healthy, thanks."

          "I'm not so sure…" Ginny said, giving him a sidelong glance and reaching out for his forehead. "Let me check for fever."

          Outside of Quidditch she had never seen Draco move so fast as when he leapt off his stool to avoid her outstretched hand. The stool tipped over and fell to the floor with a noisy clatter, but neither of them really noticed the noise as Ginny's stool joined his on the floor when she went after him, laughing.

          "Keep your filthy hands away from my face, Weasel," he ordered, moving swiftly to put the counter between them. Grinning, Ginny licked a finger, laughing harder when he scowled at her. "You are not coming near me."

          "I'm only concerned for your health," she said, giving him an 'innocent' look from beneath her lashes. Then she began edge her way towards him, moving slowly around one side of the counter. The side that did not face the kitchen door. Before she could fully round one corner, he made a dash for the entryway, but she caught up with him when the fallen stools barred his path and stepping over them proved to be his downfall. With a triumphant smile Ginny caught him before he could reach the door and clapped a hand above his eyes.

          Chills ran through her hand, traveling up her arm and flowing through her, sending shivers down her spine. Her palm was seared with heat where it touched his flesh and she snatched it away from him as if it had been burned. Which, in a way, it had. 

          Ginny was sure her eyes had never been wider as she met his shocked, steel gaze. What was that? A mere glance at Draco as he ran a hand through is hair and looked disbelievingly at her told her he had experienced the same oddity. Shakily, and before she knew what she was doing, Ginny reached towards him again, never dropping his gaze. What _was that? _

          This was the scene that lay before one Argus Filch as he walked through the door. 

A/N: This chapter is kind of long… right? Oh well, its one of the ones I actually _like_ so far… erm… I have nothing more to say, so on to the reviews!

Fire Of The Stars: Gah – I didn't answer your review in the last chapter! I'm sorry!! You have my sincerest apologies… erm…anyway, to answer your question the ball is for the 1500's – I don't think I ever mentioned that, but it's not supposed to be a secret… just bad writing skills on my part -.-;;… Heh, well I'm glad you think Draco and Ginny are in-character! I get nervous about writing them because they're characters in an _actual_ book and have been written much more successfully by J.K.R… Ack – I have to stop babbling now – I'm glad you liked the story!

Mandy: Er… yes, fun… or a bit dull – I'm hoping people don't get bored with it because there is going to be a _lot_ more character interaction. Brace yourself, eh ^_~?

Socchan: Erm… but I _can't_ write humor! Really, I can't! … so, you thought it was funny? Hehe, so did my friend (the one who helped me come up w/ this), but I was too timid to add 'humor' to the genre… I like to think of it as 'amusing.' If that was a genre I think I would use it…

Karen: *Sniffs* You don't know how nice it is to hear that… actually you probably do, but still… encouragement does me good! Actually, it probably does everybody good… I'm just going to stop talking now… I'm not making any sense… But I'm glad you liked it!

Rach W: They don't really hate each other… as you can see from this chapter, but they don't exactly like each other either… I like to think they've reached a sort of grudging friendship. And yeah, I probably will have that sort of thing going on… *sighs* it's kind of hard to avoid with D/G… not that I mind or anything ^^; 


	5. In the Hallway

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 5:

In the Hallway

          It was a fine Friday afternoon; the sun shone brilliantly into the Gryffindor common room despite the increasingly chilly weather, classes had ended for the day, the students of Hogwarts had been blessed with a lightened homework load as the Hogsmeade weekends were just beginning, and – best of all, in Ginny's opinion – her very first detention _ever_ would begin in a less than an hour. A fine afternoon indeed. 

          It was only one detention, she had tried to convince herself, only a little time spent doing some menial task. It wouldn't be so ba – _Oh, why do I even bother?_ She wondered dismally. Even in her mind, she really hadn't been very convincing.

          And to top it all off she would be serving out her punishment with the last person she would have picked – well, maybe not the _last,_ but… Draco Malfoy was still pretty far down on her list. And it had less to do with his perpetual sneer than she would have liked. 

          She had decided to ignore that odd (but entirely unpleasant) shock she had received merely by touching his skin. It was probably nothing, and she wouldn't dwell on a silly coincidence. What she was really concerned with was what Malfoy had previously disclosed to her: he didn't hate her. And when she had examined her own feelings she found she didn't exactly hate him either. 

Now that was unsettling.

Sure, Malfoy was arrogant, inconsiderate, and self-centered – he was actually something of a brat. But she couldn't hate him for that. And sometimes – when he wasn't acting quite so pompous – he was… amusing. The entire thing put her a bit ill at ease.

 All that griping from Ron and Harry (and even Hermione at one point) couldn't have been entirely false… So what did they see that she didn't? It wasn't as if she especially liked Draco, as a friend or otherwise, but certainly she could not dredge up the loathing for him that her brother had. Was she missing something? All her life she had been regaled with tales of the infamous Malfoys – first of Lucius, who she _did_ hate, and later of his son, who she plainly did not. 

Upon seeing Draco Malfoy she had expected to see some sort of great beast, but when she actually did lay eyes on him he was just a boy. A terribly good-looking one she was willing to admit, if only to herself, but still just a boy. And yet… she seemed to be the only one who saw that. She really wasn't sure she wanted to find out the reasoning behind this, and she certainly didn't want a repeat of the previous night – so she hadn't totally dismissed that odd shock. So what?

_Why am I even wasting my thoughts on him anyway?_ She thought, frowning at the book in her lap. She sat in an oversized leather chair before the cold fireplace in the common room, staring at the blank, white pages. It was the journal she had received from Charlie, and though it had been in her possession for quite some time she couldn't seem to do anything with it. 

"Hey, Gin!" 

Ginny glanced up at her older brother, followed by Harry as always, and flipped the journal closed, sticking a gnawed pencil behind her ear. Quills and ink were fine for assignments and such, but they really wouldn't do for sketching.

"Hullo, Ron, Harry."

The two boys collapsed in nearby seats, Harry nodding to her in greeting. They were bordering on friendship now, and that was fine with her, though Harry had a tendency to slip into older-brother mode at times.       

"You got a package from mum. Anything important?"

          "Just some new shoes," she answered carefully. In truth they weren't _just_ a pair of shoes, nor were they new. They were boots – huge, steel-toed, hand-me-down clunkers. She had chosen not to wear them right away. "You know, Ron, I think you and Hermione ought to at least talk or something…"

          "I agree," Harry put in, glancing meaningfully at Ron who looked somewhat wounded that his best friend would side with his younger sister. "You have to stop moping sometime, mate."

          "Alright, alright," Ron muttered, "meddle in your love lives, shall I?" Ginny snorted, rolling her eyes until they fell back down to her incredibly worn-out sneakers. She would be in those boots by tomorrow. 

          "Empty threats, brother mine," she told him, "you couldn't do it if you tried – neither of us _have_ love lives." Her eyes slid to Harry slyly. "Unless one of us is hiding something…"

          Harry sighed. "Wish I could say I was. Sixteen years old and dateless: the story of my life."

          "Forgive me if I can't dig up some pity for you," Ginny said, as Ron muttered simultaneously, "Dateless my arse."

          Plenty of girls would not be opposed to the title of 'Harry Potter's girlfriend,' but Harry seemed more inclined to someone who wasn't after him for his name and his scar. That cut down his numbers substantially. But he seemed content to watch and wait. Ginny shrugged mentally and glanced at the aged grandfather clock in the corner of the room.

          "I've got to go," she said, standing.

          "Where to, Gin?" 

          "Oh… just to get in some studying – you know, in the library." Ron didn't need to know she had detention with Draco Malfoy. It was for his own good, Ginny told herself as she dropped off her journal in the dorm and headed out the door. No need for him to get worked up over nothing.

          Draco was annoyed. 

Not only did he have detention (and he really didn't need another one), but he had detention with a Weasley. Ginny Weasley, to be exact. He really didn't want to be around that girl, though what really bothered him was that he didn't particularly _not want to be around her either. And that made him not want to be around her more than ever – which, altogether, really didn't make a lot of sense if one thought hard about it._

So how was it he had managed to arrive on time, if not – God forbid – early, for this so-called punishment? Detention had lost its menacing sheen after he had discovered that not all rule-breaking would land him with a trip to the forbidden forest. It was dreary, if anything, but hardly what he considered a real punishment. Draco shrugged mentally, thanked whoever was looking out for him that they had been forced to serve under Snape, and decided some mysteries were best left unsolved – mysteries like his uncharacteristic promptness and that… thing… that had happened when Weasley decided to lay her food-coated fingers across his forehead.

Originally he had assumed it was some sort of attempt to hex him, but with over twelve hours gone and no side effects that theory was tossed out the window along with the happening itself. He would as soon forget the whole thing as he would solve it. And since there was little chance of that happening…

Before Draco the door to the potions room came into view, a little redhead leaning against the wall outside of it. Apparently Snape was going to be late. Ginny saw him coming and a flicker of surprise flashed across her face – probably at his early arrival – before she looked back to her shoes awkwardly. Taking a stance opposite of her, Draco was content, or as content as was possible considering he was waiting to be punished, to remain in silence until they were set to some dull task or other. 

"Well, well," the chilled voice of Hogwarts resident potions master began. The man himself had come quite close without either of them noticing, so Ginny nearly jumped at the sound while Draco only blinked. "Miss Weasley. Your presence here is most… irregular." Snape seemed to study the two of them almost absently for a moment before turning, not to his classroom as Draco had supposed, but to a door across the hall. It was unlocked with a muttered spell and Snape opened the door wide, but didn't go in. It looked like some sort of…. of a broom closet. "Clean these halls, without the use of your wands. I'll expect them spotless when I return."

Damn. It _was_ a broom closet.

"Y-you're just going to leave us here alone?" Ginny asked as Snape moved to go down the hall. He stopped and gave her that penetrating stare he was famous for.

"I have better things to do than watch you two mop the floors," he paused and added as an afterthought, "Don't think you can get away with doing nothing. I will know if you decide to… neglect your duties."

And then he was gone, leaving Draco alone to face the merciless horde of mops, brooms, and buckets and the diminutive redhead who was already preparing to put them to use. _And at one point I was _glad_ to have detention under Snape… I knew there had to be a reason everyone hates him, Draco thought miserably as a mop was thrust into his hands. Malfoys did not clean – that was all there was to it. He tossed the mop down and it hit the floor with a clatter that alerted Ginny to his unwillingness. She glared at him._

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like, Weasley?" he drawled with a sneer, more disgusted with himself at the moment than at her. Fighting with her amused him far more than it should have.

"If you think that just because no one is here to supervise you can get away with lazing about, you've got another thing coming!" she snapped in a tone that reminded him eerily of Professor McGonagall. "I am _not going to do this alone –"_

"You don't have to," Draco cut in smoothly. "We can both leave. Snape will never know the difference."

Unfortunately, Ginny wasn't one to be so easily convinced. "Snape _will know," she insisted, "he said so himself. Besides, how much more trouble would we be in if we decided not to serve detention today? A lot more than it'd be worth, I'll tell you that!"_

 She took out her wand and held it over an empty bucket. 

"Amnis Aquatio!" Water spilled from the tip of her wand as it would from a fountain filling the pail to the brim and coming to a trickle before stopping completely. Mop in hand she turned to him, tucking the wand back inside her sleeve. "You can fill your own bucket."

"You're forgetting something."

"What is it?" she asked, almost absently and without even looking at him. Draco had to wonder if she knew how mad that drove him.

"I don't clean –"

She cut him off. "You do now." He ignored her. 

"That sort of thing is for people like you to have fun with."

"But why should I deny you the pleasure?" her voice came dripping with false sincerity from the depths of the open closet where she had begun to dig for cleaning fluid.

"What pleasure?" Draco shot back at her.

"Don't ask me. You're the one who said it was fun."

Ginny popped back out of the closet, faded yellow bottle in hand. She poured a kind of viscous gel into her bucket, and a lemony, inorganic scent filled the air between them. He pulled a face as it reached his nose and wondered why he hadn't simply walked away already. It struck him as a good idea at the moment.

"Well, I'm not sticking around," he announced – though in retrospect it was probably not the greatest course of action, for if none of his earlier jibes had sparked Ginny's anger, this one surely did.

"Is it possible at all for you to act as if you were out of your nappies for five bleeding seconds!?" she hissed, emphasizing her words with a splash as she plunged her mop into the brimming bucket. Soapy water sloshed over both of them; their shoes, their legs, the hems of their robes. Wide brown eyes met his, all anger washed away by the water on the floor and on their feet. "Oh, my – I didn't mean to! Sorry –" 

Draco really couldn't help himself. "Frigidus Aquula."

She stopped in mid sentence, her mouth gaping like the mouth of a fish, as a small stream spouted from his wand and fell with perfect accuracy directly over her head. Sparkling with the droplets rolling down her skin, soaking into her clothes, she shuddered raising her shoulders and standing stiffly.

"Y-you're trying to kill me! Merlin, that's _freezing_," she said with a glare, though with her shivering it really wasn't very intimidating. After she pulled out her wand and called "Amnis Aquatio," however, he was thinking a little differently. 

Now they were both drenched, but the fact was lost on the two as they faced off, shooting water left and right, ducking behind open doors when the opportunity arose. It didn't take long before the floor was as soaked as they were, but both were too caught up in catching the other off-guard to remember the little things. Little things like detention and old family grudges.

Draco leaned almost casually against the wall beside the right angle of an open door, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that Ginny was approaching from the other side. As soon as she was close enough he slammed the door closed, startling the redhead into temporary motionlessness. During the few second that she stood blinking in surprise he let a small stream pour from his wand. It splashed her in the face and he grinned as she tried to wipe the water from her eyes.

"You – that wasn't fair!" she spluttered, and if he hadn't known better he would have sworn she was pouting. 

"Now who ought to 'act as if they were out of their nappies'?"

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," she said, raising her dripping nose in mock solemnity. 

"That's just a fancy way of saying you can't come up with a clever response." 

There were a number of ways Draco imagined she might respond to that, but all of them proved to be wrong because laughing out loud certainly hadn't been on the list. He could only stare at her, aghast, as torch-light shone golden on her head of fiery curls and drops of water fell, winking, from her shaking form. The red of her lips and the black of her long lashes stood out against her skin, pale now from the cold but for her rosy cheeks and slightly reddened nose.  

What surprised him was not her laughter – he had never truly been able to predict her anyway – but the odd notion that struck him just then; she was beautiful, gorgeous even. It wasn't the superficial, wilting beauty he was accustomed to, it was more… real, simple, natural… he couldn't place the difference, but there was one, most definitely. 

Not that it changed anything. 

"Got me there," she huffed, then grinned, "I'll make you a deal – I'll grow up as soon as you do." 

He never got the chance to reply as a chorus of footsteps and voices floated down the hall and to their ears, coming ever closer. He turned to find a group of familiar, if not always welcome, faces. 

"Draco! Didn't guess we'd find you here." Blaise Zabini smiled disarmingly at him, flanked on both sides by members of the Slytherin quidditch team. "So – serving detention…?" his eyes, an unremarkable brown like his mop of hair, traveled to Ginny behind him. "…Or just having some fun?"

Draco snorted in contempt – more at himself than at Zabini, mainly because he _had_ been having fun, though not in the way the other boy meant it. But no one else had to know that. 

"As a matter of fact, yes. Mopping floors with a Weasley is my idea of a good time – isn't it yours?" 

"That's what you've been doing, is it?" It was only then that Draco realized the mops had disappeared a while back and so had the closet. He wondered where he was, exactly. "You look like you've been in a fight with the giant squid – how'd you get so wet?"

"Oh…" _I was just engaging in a completely immature, out of character water battle with the daughter of my father's worst enemy,_ he could hear himself say. _It was loads of fun._ "Yes, well, what did you expect? I'm working with a Weasley; clumsy as a dying hippogriff, all of them. Quite pathetic, really."

Zabini merely gave him a benign smile, obviously meant to look innocent. The effect wasn't quite achieved. The boy instead appeared as if he knew something no one else did – but then again, he always looked that way. Bloody annoying, that.

The others smiled, chuckling dumbly, apparently agreeing with Draco's assessment. That was also fairly agitating, considering they had probably forgotten what a hippogriff was.

"Looks like you've offended her," he laughed jarringly. 

Draco turned around swiftly to glance at Ginny, half expecting to find her glaring forcefully at him, but all he saw was her back as she strode away at a near jog, kicking up water on the sopping floors as she went. She had left without even stopping to give him a piece of her mind. That was strange, but even stranger… he felt almost… guilty. He decided with incredible rapidity that he didn't like the feeling.

"Say, if you're so busy mopping, what exactly happened to your mop?"

As he turned to answer, Draco began more and more to wish he'd left with her.

                        

A/N: Well, sure, Draco was OOC here, but all in all I rather like this chapter… I want Draco and Ginny to come off as somewhat childish… Anyway – I've read the new HP book! While it doesn't really affect this plotline I'm going to continue to write this as if the new book never came out; mainly because I have plans for Percy in a later chapter (not overly large plans, but still…) and I just want to keep things simpler… so, that being said, on to the reviews (for which I am eternally grateful):

Bulma Greenleaf: Don't worry! I'll continue until the very end… unless I meet an untimely demise – here's to hoping that doesn't happen!

Capuccino: Thanks – Glad you like it! (I think that's about all I have to say…)  

Socchan: Yes! Write to the management! Though I don't know how many people would want to label (or read) a fic with merely 'amusing' as a genre when they could go for 'humorous'…. Well, except for me, but I'm an oddball so that doesn't count… Actually, most of my friends go to other friends who don't have love-lives for help… I think it's because I don't appear to be interested in that sort of thing (which I'm not, particularly)… or because I don't know what to say to them when they do ask me ^^;;

PrincessOfIllFate: I regret to inform you that there won't be any snogging for a few chapters… mwaha… but since you want me to hurry I think I might drag it out a liiiiiittle longer – Gah! No, just kidding, I swear! I have plans for this story… big plans…. Ok, well, maybe they're more like slightly-larger-than-miniscule plans, but still… *blinks* wait – didn't you just kill yourself back there? …Congrats! You have officially confused the author! (You and about 5 million other people…) 

Mandy: Ha! You probably don't think he's so in-character now… but he's still arrogant, right?? Well, whatever… I don't care about keeping him in-character anymore! I have absolute power over everything that goes on in this fic!! Haha!! *Stops going power-mad* Erm… I'm ok, really… 


	6. Shoes and Socks

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 6:

Shoes and Socks

          Sleep was a thing often said to be therapeutic. 'Sleep on it, dear,' Ginny could remember hearing more times than she could count. Either that or, 'you'll feel better in the morning.' And often times it proved to be sound advice. Yes, there was something about lying unconscious for hours on end that cleared the mind and dulled harsh emotions.

          How strange that it didn't seem to work this time.

          It was Saturday morning and Ginny stood across from her nemesis in the crowded Great Hall, refusing to meet his eyes. She didn't want the vicious anger she had so carefully nursed to be softened by any looks of remorse – not that she expected any from him.

          Initially, she admitted to herself, hurt had prevailed over anger, but as she had walked away from him (and her detention, though Snape hadn't yet mentioned it) the pain had dulled into a bitter anger. She had trusted him, relaxed, dropped her guard, and then he had betrayed her, his words raining down on her as hard as Hagrid's fist. Her anger was perfectly just; righteous in every way… but also completely and utterly pathetic.

          Well, that was how she felt, anyway. It was embarrassing to think that she had, for a few brief moments, considered Draco Malfoy a… friend. It was humiliating to know that she was not truly angry with him, but with herself. And it was absolutely mortifying to realize that she had let him hurt her – that she had expected him to be better than he was and she had done it on her own. That wasn't the worst of it, though. What really made her hang her head, what curled her hands into fists at her sided, was that she _still_ expected something of him, though she wasn't quite sure what that was.

          She certainly hoped it wasn't an apology, because she _knew if that was what she anticipated she would never be satisfied._

          Oddly enough, that only served to make her angrier.

          "Good morning, my dears," Professor Trelawney swept into the room, nearly late because she refused to dine with the rest of the staff and students. Some said it was a miracle she had agreed to risk 'fogging her inner eye amidst the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts' to come down and teach this class. "I've seen you all are ready to begin."

          They had moved on to a different sort of dance, slightly (and only just _slightly_) reminiscent of a modern slow dance, though there was to be considerably less contact between partners. It still managed to make Ginny uncomfortable – not least because it was far from unpleasant to be near him physically. There was an evil little part of her that wished he were more inclined to the shallow end of the gene pool. Or whatever it was that made him so damn attractive.

          In unison with the rest of the students, she moved to begin the lesson, stepping across the gap usually occupied by the Gryffindor table towards Draco. He took her hands and Ginny's eyes flew downward to alight on her boots rather than meet his gaze. She had to fight at keeping her grip loose; afraid she might grind his bones to dust along with those gloves. 

          Gratitude for the sheaths on his hands washed over her anger for a moment, though it had all the effect of light rainfall over a fortress of stone. She hoped she would never have to touch him directly again!

          "Anything of interest down there?" 

          Ginny jumped, but didn't look up, as Draco spoke, his voice a low whisper. She probably would have – no matter how unwillingly – found it incredibly sexy any other time. Oh, Hell, even now she did – but she was still bloody angry!

          "Not particularly, no," she bit out between gritted teeth because past her growing irritation she could think of nothing else to say.

          "Then perhaps you'd care to stop staring at your shoes," he drawled, and she was glad she had yet to look him in the eye. "You might as well be conversing with them, with the way you're looking at them."

          "Well, they'd certainly be more pleasant to talk to than you!" Ginny snapped, looking up and away again in time to catch his eyes widen. His chance to respond was lost, fortunately perhaps for them both, as Professor Trelawney spoke in her clouded voice and the lesson began.

          Always before in such sessions, the steps had come easily to Ginny. It was almost calming to slip into the simple routines. This time, however, her usual grace continued to elude her (as it did nearly everywhere else, though that was not the point). It added to her heaping pile of frustration as, brow furrowed, she tried so hard to get it right.

          "If you're trying to break my hand, you're doing an excellent job of it," she heard Draco mutter and she loosened her grip, not quite as guiltily as she would have another time. "Not quite on top of the ball today, are we?"

          Professor Trelawney called for a step to the right. She went left.

          "No. Now kindly stop talking to me."

          "Kindly?" he arched a brow, his voice peppered with amusement. If looks could kill he'd be dead where he stood… or his shoes would, at least.

          "Excuse me – forgot who I was speaking to. You wouldn't know kindness if it kicked you in the arse – something that desperately needs to be done."

          She missed another of her Professor's orders. 

          "That's better," said Draco, a bare semblance of a smile gracing his lips. "Though with your mental capacities I can't blame you for failing to remember." On second thought it was more of a smirk.

          Merlin, but he was infuriating!

          "Listen, Malfoy," she managed to get out. She was fairly sure she was crushing his hands again. "I'm going to say this very slowly; If you don't want me to do you serious bodily harm you will not say another word to me for as long as I live. My 'mental capacities' are none of your concern. Got it?"

          "Actually they are my concern." As Draco opened his mouth to voice his next remark, Professor Trelawney called out the next step. A fatal combination. "I feel as if I'm dancing with a dying hippogriff."

          Ginny saw red. All she could do was fume silently…. 

          And bring her foot down hard on top of his. Yes – she was wearing the boots.

           For one beautiful moment she was at peace with the world. And then guilt rose up like a gigantic wave over her blissful beach and she was crushed beneath it and dragged out into the sea. She hadn't meant to hurt him. Not really. Certainly, she hadn't _expected to hurt him. But there he was, on the floor, clutching his foot and cursing up a storm. The First and Second Years tittered as obscenities rained over them. Storm indeed._

          "Oh, Merlin – I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean – well, I did, but not – I'm sorry!" Ginny was stumbling all over herself with apologies, on her knees beside him. She was still trying to apologize, and he was still uttering obscenities, though that had faded to more of a mutter, when Professor Trelawney came up behind him.

          "I knew I sensed an unnatural tension in the air. Miss Weasley, you must escort your partner to the Hospital Wing immediately."

          Cheeks burning with mortification, Ginny managed to help Draco up, glad when he didn't push her away completely, though he did look rather sour about the whole thing. Well, Ginny could understand that. She wouldn't be too happy either, if their situations were reversed. 

          As they walked down the corridors in an uncomfortable silence, she noted his limp and winced, wondering just how hard she had hit him. It was almost a relief he had finally decided to stop speaking to her. Even if it was a little late in the game.

          She left Draco with Madam Pomfrey and headed off, feeling as though she could to nothing right and hoping desperately to make it up.

          Draco wondered groggily, as his head began to clear of sleeping draught, if Ginny Weasley had in fact known that he had stubbed his left toe far too many times this week, that a stray bludger had tackled his foot a few short nights ago during Quidditch practice, that she had decided to step on the same bloody foot she had also managed to nail with her grossly over-sized trunk at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters! Too many damned coincidences.

 He also wondered if the sleeping draught had really been necessary or if Pomfrey had just decided she'd had enough of him because he could be an annoying bastard and he knew it.

Only a few hours had passed while he slept, but that draught had been _powerful. So much that he was still feeling the effects minutes after waking up. Thoughts crawled across his brain like snails across hot pavement, his head felt as if it were encased in cotton, and his body as if it were hidden under three hundred pounds of the stuff. It went far, far beyond lethargic. He had yet to open his eyes and he could only breathe in the sterile hospital air._

But beyond the numbness there was something different, something changed… Draco didn't feel the need to move, to look around the room, to do anything. He felt oddly content… almost peaceful.

_What the hell did she drug me with? _he wondered, and as soon as the thought appeared it was gone and he found he really didn't care. For a while he lay there, swimming in the pools of darkness behind his eyes, before puzzlement invaded his peace. 

He knew what had changed. The guilt was gone.

It had only grown since Ginny walked away during their detention, and as much as he had tried to rationalize the entire thing, it had only seemed to gradually get worse. So, he had decided to test the waters of the little Weasley's temper and it really wasn't the best decision he'd ever made. Yep, it ranked right up there with snitching on Potter in his first year. 

_An eye for an eye, I suppose,_ Draco thought miserably, not feeling quite so tranquil anymore. He hurt her, she hurt him – they were even… if you barred the fact that she had _literally_ crushed his foot. A part of him screamed that he ought to be furious with the little Weasley. And that part was quickly becoming a major irritant as he found he simply could not be.    

Maybe he was secretly some sort of masochist. Or maybe he had deserved it – no, more likely he was as masochistic as they come. But if that were the case at least Ginny Weasley would be perfect for him.

Gods, was he delirious. 

In a vain effort to escape his harrying thoughts Draco opened his eyes to the light of the afternoon, shining brilliantly on white bed-sheets. And that feeling of peace swept over him again in a torrent so strong it was futile to struggle against it.

Hair lit a fiery orange, falling in waves over her back and shoulders, spilling over her folded arms to lie against his sheets like a pastel waterfall, she slept, only halfway in a chair at his bedside. Her skin was white like milk, paling behind the long lashes tickling her cheeks, and over the innocent bridge of her nose a spray of faded freckles peeked out where the sun had kissed her. The skin of her lips looked soft as satin, pink and lush as a rosebud's petals. She was an angel against the stark white of his sheets where she rested her head. 

And he would be damned to Hell before he admitted any such thing aloud. 

Draco's eyes fled her face, swiftly falling instead on a leather-bound book in her lap. It appeared to be some sort of journal, as it had no title, and it also appeared to be edging towards the end of her knee. The thing teetered on the brink of falling for just a moment before plummeting to the floor with a clap that seemed loud in the deathly stillness of the room. All Draco could think to do was watch it, and then watch Ginny as she awoke with a start.

Her eyes scanned the room dazedly, as if she had forgotten where she was, and then they landed on him and widened. Effortlessly he held her gaze and found himself oddly pleased when she blushed. 

"If you were aiming for my arse," he finally decided to say, "you were off by quite a bit."            

"I – I'm sorry… I really am… I didn't mean to do any real damage, and I – I'm… so sorry," she appeared at a loss. He snorted.

"You've apologized enough times, now, I think." 

"Sorry –" Draco gave her a disparaging look "– But I just… don't want you to be too terribly angry with me…"

He arched a brow quizzically. "Why?"

"Well… we're around each other enough for it to make a difference, aren't we? And I already feel horribly guilty about it – Oh! Does… this mean you're not angry, then?"

"You're going to keep apologizing if I say no, aren't you?"

"Without a doubt."

"I'm not mad."

"Good!" she smiled, and Draco had to wonder why a very small part of him was relieved. "Because if you were I would have done all that work for nothing."

          She began to rummage in her book-bag and Draco had a feeling Ginny didn't believe they were quite even yet. What was that old saying? 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned' or some-such nonsense. He had never in his life taken it seriously until now.     

"I changed my mind. I am mad – no… wait. You are," he finished with a sigh as he saw what she had in store.

"You see, I charmed them to change temperatures according to the temperature of your…" 

Draco had long since stopped listening. He was much more preoccupied with staring in horror at the miss-matched socks that dangled from her hands. Smiling bats and stripes of orange and violet decorated one, while the other was adorned with blue owls and fat yellow cats with big eyes. Together they looked like a pet shop gone horribly, horribly wrong.

"… had already bought them, and you said something about Dobby's socks – You're not even listening, are you, Draco?"

That brought him out of his nightmarish-sock-induced stupor.

"Hey – what's this 'Draco' business?"

"Oh! Well… it's your name isn't it?" suddenly she looked very shy and began to fold the socks together in her lap. But the name sounded good on her lips – hell, it sounded good on anybody's lips! It was his, after all. "It just slipped out – I didn't think you were paying attention…"

"Please. Spare me the extended apology sequence. Call me whatever you want."

It was only when a mischievous grin spread over her face that he realized his error.

"Really? How about git? Moron? Prat? Daft –" The list went on…

"Let me rephrase that…" Draco trailed off, and watched, astonished, as Ginny Weasley began to giggle. What really surprised him was not her laughter itself, but the unfamiliar urge to laugh with her. And what totally floored him was the realization that they were behaving like friends.

Funny. When had that happened?

His train of thought broke off as Madam Pomfrey strode up to the bed.

"Well, now that the draught has worn off you should be all right, but those bones were splintered fairly badly. I'm only going to take one more look," she glanced at Ginny. "Miss Weasley I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave."

Ginny blinked, then nodded and rose from the chair, slinging her book-bag over one shoulder. 

"Well, goodbye, Malfoy. I'll see you… eventually, I suppose."

Draco sighed. "Yes, I suppose it can't be helped." 

He was rewarded with a pair of atrocious socks to the head. 

             A/N: Ok… well, I don't think Ginny is the type to hold grudges; she gets angry, but she doesn't mean to hurt anyone and when she does she feels really bad about it. That's why she forgave Draco and wanted to give him the socks – socks because he had a foot injury, get it? Well, it made sense to me… at some point. I dunno… this chapter amused me, and of it makes no sense to you I'm terribly sorry – what can I say? I suffer from chronic stupidity. Reviews (erm… if you just said you liked it all I can say is thanks so… I'm not going to reply, as happy as I am to recieve such reviews):

Bulma Greenleaf: Of course he likes Ginny! He just doesn't know it yet… or doesn't want to – De Nile ain't just a river in Egypt, you know! (Sorry, I couldn't resist -.-;) Anyway, I'll try not to meet any untimely demises ^^

ZetaBee: Erm…. It's good Draco's having second thoughts? Heh – not for Ginny, poor girl… 

Socchan: Don't worry… I'll be able to say the same thing in a few years if all goes according to plan…       

 Karen: Yes… wet Draco….*snaps out of fantasy* uh – what? Oh, yes, the review; glad you liked the detention scene. I wasn't too sure if it would go over well… but I guess it did^^

PrincessofIllFate: *Hands PrincessofIllFate a tissue* I'm sorry… but be consoled! It will happen eventually, I swear! 

          Mandy: Hmm…. Actually I hadn't even considered putting Snape behind them… it never occurred to me, probably because the 'having detention together' thing is so over-done I only wanted it to happen once… or just because I'm un-creative and slightly… er… special in the head… Yeah, Order of the Pheonix did have a lack of Draco – though he did have a funny line or two. Ack – I wish I had read this review sooner or I would of called… maybe we can go this weekend?

          Waterfairy-rose: Erm… I… 'rock', you say? I wish I could believe you, but my self-esteem is too fragile… actually, no it's not – Whoo! I rock! *dances*… *ahem*, anyway, you're probably thinking Draco is at least middle OOC right now, aren't you? Yeah, this chapter is a little weird… oh well, I can live with that… I think… So – now do you see the relevance of the shoes? No? Ok, then, I'm a failure… I was just trying to make things coincidental and stuff… did it work? No, again? Yikes, I'm untalented… I hope this chapter wasn't too… erm… 'silly'… even though it was supposed to be… Oh, and yes, I love long reviews! They are angels sent from heaven! …and the wonderful people who care enough to comment on my story…  


	7. An Outing

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 7: An Outing

          It had been two weeks. Two weeks since he had left the Hospital Wing, two weeks since Draco's foot had healed, two week since he had discovered a little leather-bound journal that was to be the bane of his existence!

          Well, maybe that was going a little far. _Potter was the bane of his existence… though not so much any more as he had been during Draco's first few years. _

          It wasn't that he hated the book itself – quite the contrary, in fact. If he had been the type to keep a journal he might have picked it out for himself. It was nice; bound in black dragon hide and embroidered in Slytherin green. Not at all the type of thing he'd expect Ginny Weasley to own. In fact, if all the pages (all but one) hadn't been completely blank he would have assumed it was a relic passed down from one of her brothers though really it was in too good of a condition for that. Besides, it had fallen off of her lap in the hospital wing, so it had to be hers.

          Now, the question was why had she decided to sketch him in it? And why on earth did he care enough to wonder about this in the first place?

          Draco didn't really mind that she had decided to draw him – why should he? – but whenever he looked at the journal he thought of her, and a day didn't pass when he didn't do both. He had, on more than one occasion, carried it with him as he would any of his school books, and though he had probably done it with intentions of giving it back to its owner… well, he just never really got around to it.    

          It never seriously occurred to him to simply seek out Ginny and return it. For one thing he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys didn't have to return anything to anyone. For another thing, if he returning it after keeping it so long could result in either a rather awkward situation or severe bodily harm on his part. The little Weasley was a danger to everyone around her. Or just everyone who set off her temper – whichever; they were probably near enough the same thing anyway.

Either way, he needed a distraction. And that was why, on a chilly Saturday morning (after etiquette classes with McGonagall, of course) Draco was paying a visit to Hogsmeade, or more specifically the little hole in the wall known as Savrin's Stitches. It was, as the name implied, a clothing store – more to the point it was a custom-made clothing store. 

And, no, he was not going shopping for fun. 

Savrin could make just about anything, and he could make it for dirt-cheap too, though this wasn't of much consequence to Draco himself. Another time it might have been. The man was talented and seemed to truly enjoy his work; he was also completely open to requests. And Draco was in need of Fifteenth Century formal wear. 

The ball was a long way off, true, but he didn't enjoy being fitted for new clothes, and the sooner he got this over with the better. With that uplifting thought in mind he stepped into the shop. 

          Apparently, Ginny Weasley had beaten him to it. There was a very small part of him that had expected her to, as he had come to expect to pass her in the halls, to forget a book in his last class and find her sitting in his seat when he went to retrieve it, or to find her doing the same. They ran into each other more often than he thought normal, and as a result Draco had realized one day that he was not totally adverse to her company. That was a bad thing as far as he was concerned. He didn't want to expect to see her, or anyone, wherever he went.

          However much he expected to see her, he certainly hadn't expected to – completely against his will, I might add – gape uncontrollably at the sight.

          Increasingly since he had first consciously noted it, Draco found himself thinking her beautiful. He didn't particularly like this either, since he had never thought quite the same of anyone. But as she stood in front of him, modeling her ball-gown, he couldn't help it.

            The dress was a velvety forest green, with a full skirt and gauzy sleeves. Golden scrollwork trailed around her shoulders, around her arms, across the bodice, and down the plunging, square-cut neck where a modest bit of cleavage peeked over the top. It was a lovely frock, but that was nothing to the way Ginny looked inside it. She was near to glowing, from her smiling face to the bare feet that poked out the edge of the gown. She hadn't yet noticed his presence.   

          "Well, how does it look?"

          Or had she? It took him a moment to realize that Granger was in the room as well.

          "Oh, Ginny, it's just beautiful," then when he came closer she added slyly, "wouldn't you agree, Malfoy?"

          What was really irritating about that statement was that he did.

          Ginny looked up at him, surprised. "Oh – come to get your clothing for the ball?"

          Ever since she had slipped and called him by his given name in the Hospital Wing, she had avoided calling him anything at all. When she did it tended to be 'Malfoy,' though. It was more amusing than annoying, but given time the little habit could really start to grate on his nerves.

          Inwardly Draco frowned. Why did he assume Ginny would be around long enough for that to happen anyway? 

"Against my better judgment, yes." 

His harsh comment didn't phase Ginny. They never seemed to, anymore. 

          "Did you know that the wizarding world hadn't adapted its own style of dress in the fifteen-hundreds? We were using muggle styles for years before robes showed up and even now most of us wear –"

          "I think you've been spending too much time around Granger, over here," Draco interrupted. "You're beginning to sound like her."

          "Charming as ever, I see," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Ginny's cheeks, however, were swept with a hue of red. It was remarkably easy to make her blush.

          "Well, actually, Mr. Savrin was just telling me –"  

          "About the history of wizards' clothing," an aged voice cut in. Savrin himself had entered the room, slipping out from behind a curtain that undoubtedly hid the entrance to a back room. He was a slight man, of average height and lean build. The fringe of hair that circled his bald pate was a pure white and he had a pleasant ready smile that further creased the weathered skin of his face. He rather reminded Draco of Dumbledore, but younger. And not quite as batty. "That is what you were about to say, was it not, Miss Weasley?"

          "Yes – I'm surprised you know so much about it," Ginny admitted, and the old man smiled at her.

          "It doesn't hurt to know more about one's craft," he said kindly. Then he looked to the gown. "Is this the one?"

          "Yes, I think so."

          "It's just lovely, my dear. Perfect, if I do say so myself – shall I ring it up for you?"

          Ginny nodded in the affirmative and with a grand sweeping gesture, Savrin drew aside the curtain to the back room, which was, oddly enough, where he kept his front counter.  Perhaps he was more similar to Dumbledore than Draco had previously given him credit for.

          "Right this way, then," Savrin led Ginny away, and then added over his shoulder, "And I'll be with you in a moment, Mr. Malfoy."

          It was only as the curtain fell closed that Draco realized he had been left alone to wait with Granger. Wonderful. They stood in a dull silence for a moment, and he had just decided not to say anything at all to her when apparently she decided to do the opposite.

          She turned to him purposefully, paused a moment as if thinking over her words, and then, in that know-it-all tone of hers – as if she were talking about the bloody weather! – she asked:

          "So – fancy Ginny, do you?"

          Though he managed to keep his face impassive, Draco was spluttering on the inside.  

          "And I thought you were supposed to be a clever one," he managed stonily.

          "You thought I was clever? How flattering." Even though Draco knew she was being insincere, her voice was devoid of sarcasm. "But I think you ought to save your compliments for someone else." 

          It was absolutely incredible how much 'someone else' sounded like 'Ginny' when she said it just then.

          "Being around Potter and his sidekick so often must have addled your mind if you think that I'd _fancy_ anyone," he said, wondering that he kept the acid from his voice. Well, most of it, at any rate. "Much less a Weasley."

          "Really? Then I suppose it's safe to tell Harry he won't have much competition."

          For some reason the mild remark set him off. How totally inexplicable.  

          "What!? Don't tell me –" Draco stopped in mid-sentence, noting the way she regarded him with faint amusement. "Potter has nothing to do with this, does he?"

          "Not a thing."

          "I'm not jealous." 

          "No one said you were."

          It occurred to him that this girl firmly believed he was interested in the youngest Weasley offspring – which he certainly was not! – and yet she hadn't gone trotting off to fetch the rest of the Dream Team, or made any sort of attempt to protect poor, innocent Ginny from whatever she believed his intentions to be. It also occurred to him that this was uncharacteristic behavior. And so, in a desperate bid to sway the course of the conversation he voiced those thoughts in the form of a question.

          To his great surprise, Hermione actually seemed to think about it.

          "I've grown up, I suppose, but besides that, Ginny can take care of herself," she said, and if she was about to say anything more Savrin's reappearance stayed her tongue. Not enough, of course, to keep her from whispering "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone" as she passed him to inquire of Ginny's whereabouts.

          "Miss Weasley will be out in a moment – she can't very well wear that gown all around Hogsmeade," Savrin told her, then he turned to Draco, and gestured to wards a stool surrounded by a variety of full length mirrors. "Right up here, Mr. Malfoy. Any particular preferences?"

          "No frills or anything else of the sort," Draco answered automatically, used to the process.

          "Colors?"

          "Black. Or green – dark green."

          "Alright then." The man pulled out his wand and in an instant Draco's black sweater and dark jeans were gone, replaced by something out of a muggle fantasy – namely a white shirt (billowing sleeves included) partially covered by a leather vest in a green so dark it was near enough to black. The inanely baggy pants fit into the turned-down tops of the boots that traveled up to mid-shin. Savrin knew his tastes fairly well, it seemed. He deemed it suitable, in an effort to get off the stool and out of the shop as soon as possible, though that still wouldn't be the end of it.    

What he saw in the mirror was only a temporary apparition. In a week or so he would have to return here to pick up the real thing.

Draco turned to inform Savrin of his decision in time to catch the eye of Ginny Weasley, who turned away and rushed out the door after Hermione before he could see her blush. Had she been staring at him? A traitorous part of him hoped absurdly that she had. He didn't particularly like that. 

_That's it,_ he decided, _next chance I get, I'm going to throw that damned book out the window._ And a few days later he did just that. Unfortunately for him, the action was not without repercussions. 

"Are you sure you don't want that sleeping draught? I could still go ask Madam Pomf –"

Ron cut her off with no small amount of irritation. She couldn't well blame him. It was, after all, the hundredth time she'd asked.

"I'm fine, Ginny."

Ginny bit her lip, not entirely convinced and most certainly not relieved of her guilt. Oh, she hadn't done anything herself to put her brother in the Hospital Wing, but… well, it had been her book… 

She shifted in her seat by his bedside, uncomfortably aware that this was the same position she'd been in with Dra – _Malfoy_ only a few short weeks ago and that Ron would positively have kittens if he knew about it. Even though it hadn't really been anything more than… she struggled with the word… _friendly_. Not that she would mind being friends with him – truth be told, Ginny had grown fond of his company. But that word didn't really fit. She wondered why.

"I don't know why you insist on believing it was your fault, but it really wasn't, Gin," Ron told her, sitting up against the pillows and rubbing his head absently. "Now stop coddling me! I get enough from Mum these days…"

A grin lit Ginny's face. With only her and Ron left in the house, her mother was beginning to suffer some sort of empty-nest syndrome. Before she could offer a sympathetic reply, however, Hermione burst into the room, and since Ron was lost to the outside world as soon as she approached the bed, Ginny tactfully decided to leave the two alone. They had made up, and it wasn't pleasant to be around them when they were in the same room together.

Shutting the door behind her, she slipped into the corridor and narrowly missed colliding with Draco Malfoy. They both stopped short, and Ginny sagged against the door as she caught her breath. It was the second time she had been startled that day.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted out, before she could think to be more polite. Not that it mattered with him anyway.

"What? Not happy to see me?" he asked. He was probably the only one she knew who could make his pout look sarcastic. "Well, I was going to see Madam Pomfrey about the headaches I've been having, not that it's any of your business."       

 "Oh. I wouldn't go in there now, if I were you."

"Why not?"

"Well, unless you _want_ to watch a couple of your least favorite people snog themselves silly…"

Draco's brows shot up and the look of disgust that crawled over his features was insurmountable.  _Honestly, it's not that_ revolting,_ Ginny thought, judging his reaction._

"Potter and Weasley are –" Her amused snort cut him off.

"Oh, Gods, that's what you thought?" she wheezed between bouts of laughter. "It's only Ron and Hermione."

"That's not much better…" he muttered, then brightened. "Weasley's in the Hospital Wing?"

"Yes, he is…"

"What for?"

"Well… if you must know, we were heading off to the pitch to watch Harry practice when…" Ginny bit her lip. "He was hit… in the head… with my book…"

Draco grinned. "You beamed him?"

"No! It just fell out of nowhere – as if someone had thrown it out the window or something!" She was too busy frowning at her shoes to notice her companion had gone a few shades paler. "It wasn't my fault… but I wonder who could have had my book?"

"Someone took it from you?" he ventured.

"No, no, I lost it somewhere – but I'm glad to have it back now, it was a gift from Charlie."

"Yes. Good for you."

"Still…" she dragged the word out thoughtfully, and would have asked for his opinion, but at that moment a crash sounded at the end of the hall. 

Goyle – or maybe it was Crabbe, Ginny had never been able to tell them apart – Goyle had burst out of the muggle studies classroom, and now sat dazed on the ground. Something that looked suspiciously like a rat cross-bred with a well-done piece of toast appeared to be latched onto his nose and the pudgy digits of his right hand were hidden inside the metal jaws of – was that a toaster? 

Simultaneously, Ginny and Draco winced.

Crabbe – or at least she thought it was Crabbe – followed him out of the classroom, the tall form of Blaise Zabini trailing behind and Ginny could swear he was chuckling. Suddenly he turned in their direction, looked on for a moment, then turned back to the walking disaster that was Goyle.

It was then Ginny noticed that Draco looked distinctly uncomfortable. It vanished as soon as he turned to her, but she was sure it had been there.

"I suppose it would be inhumane not to help them," he said, after a still moment, and was gone before she could reply.

"Since when are you humane?" she murmured to the empty corridor. No one answered; it left an odd, sick feeling in her stomach. As if she had swallowed a stone. 

A/N: I don't like the ending sentence here (in fact, I don't really like this entire chapter)… but I couldn't think of anything better… *sighs* yes, it's been a little too long since my last update (has it? It seems like it to me anyway)… my deepest apologies. I blame summer school. Erm…. I guess this is sort of a filler chapter… but the next one will be out real soon. Seriously. Well, on to the reviews (again, not replying to some one-liners, though I am still profoundly grateful to have received them):

Harpsychord: ehehe… here's an update for you! Erm… but I have to ask… what's a 'lurve'?

 Rach W.: Suspense? Hehe… how did that get in there? Oh well, glad you like!

Bulma Greenleaf: Well, I know this wasn't real soon, but I am continuing! Nothing short of raging stampedes can stop me!... *Glances suspiciously around for any signs raging stampedes* Ok… anyway, I've gotten some reviews from Waterfairy-rose, so I guess she must be reading it… hehe… someone recommended my work… that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside…

  Randi Crawford: Ack! You have no idea how freaked out I was as soon as I read the first line of your review – You scared me half to death!! Erm… well, maybe that's going a little too far… but anyway, there I was thinking 'Omigosh, this is gonna be a flame, my story sucks, what was I thinking posting this!!' and then it turned out to be something nice… well, I'm assuming you meant 'wow' in a good way… I have to thank you for not crushing my fragile self-esteem! And for taking the time to read my humble attempt at writing something worth while.

Scarlett: Whew – it relieves me to hear that you think I'm keeping them in character. In case you haven't noticed I'm insanely worried about it ^^;

The Girl Who Loves To Read: Ah! You got the sock thing! My sort-of-but-not-really beta didn't get it for the longest time… it worried me, but at least now I know someone gets it! 

Mandy: You don't have to worry about repeating yourself… I don't mind ^-^… unless you have another reason for it… 


	8. Mirror, Mirror

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 8:

Mirror, Mirror

          Winter had descended on the grounds of Hogwarts, bringing chilly days and even colder nights beneath ever cloudy skies. And of course there was the anticipation, humming about the students like a fairy light, of that first glorious snowfall, and of home-cooked meals, and Christmas morning.

Unfortunately, December was a young month yet. There was quite a ways to go – a realization that made Ginny groan as often as it hit her. But that wasn't what was bothering her in the middle of a winter night. 

She had lost her journal – yes, again. This time, however, she knew exactly where she had left it: by her seat at the Quidditch pitch. Since she and Ron had missed Harry's last practice on account of falling books they had gone to watch another one and… well, here she was, staring apprehensively up the stairwell that led to the boy's dormitories. 

Sure, she could have waited until morning, but she knew (from a conversation between Ron and Harry) that the Slytherins had booked it first thing the next day. If one of them got their hands on her sketch of Draco… mere mortification wouldn't describe it.

_That book is so much more trouble than it's worth,_ she groused as her foot connected with the first step. A simple trip to the kitchens was no problem, but the Quidditch pitch was halfway across the school and if she got caught she would never hear the end of it, and Harry wouldn't even have to know about it, and… Ginny bit her lip. The door between the Sixth Year's room and herself stood like a sentry in front of her.

Maybe no one would ever know, but the guilt would probably eat her alive. Oh well, at least her book would be safe.

She opened the door and made her way into the murky darkness of no-woman's land. It looked very, very similar to her own dorm room; the snoring was a little louder, and the arrangements a little different, but they were basically the same aside from those minor details. The small scrap of comfort let her breathing come easier, her steps more fluidly, and suddenly she realized she had blown the entire thing out of proportion. She was only going to borrow Harry's invisibility cloak to retrieve her book. That was all. Only that.

Actually finding Harry's bed, though, nearly made her lose her nerve. She peaked between the curtains until his face came into view, asleep and strangely foreign without the familiar round frames of his glasses. His trunk lay at the foot of his bed, and opening it proved to be more difficult than she had anticipated, wincing several times at the squeaking of the old hinges. It didn't have any of the hexes or magical locks commonly found to guard the secret treasures of other students and Ginny silently thanked Harry for being so simple.

She set aside a few sweaters and a pair of folded pants, and the shimmering fabric of the cloak sparkled at her from inside the great chest. _Oh, Harry…She sighed in exasperation. He was The Boy Who Lived and the only defenses between an intruder and possibly his most valuable possession were a few articles of clothing? Even in her youthful ignorance, Ginny knew better than that._

In spite of it all her hands lowered to lift the cloak almost reverently. She swept it around herself, stared at the place her body used to be for just a moment, and set off for the pitch at a brisk walk. The sooner she got this over with, the better.

The halls at night were shadowed and eerily silent (with the exception of an indignant snort from the awakened fat lady). The paintings slumbered, unmoving in a way that was reminiscent of muggle works, in a way that emphasized the emptiness of the long stretches of stone floor and the silhouettes of the dead suits of armor cast in black across the walls. Even the stairs had ceased most movement, rumbling infrequently with their gruff, stone voices. The sound echoed dissonantly in the sleeping castle.  

It was enough to discourage the more timid students from an after-hours jaunt. Well, Ginny had never been said to be timid, but she couldn't keep from looking over her shoulder every once and a while. After all, any corner could conceal an ill-meaning haunt or a red-eyed, mewling Mrs. Norris or even worse – Filch, himself. 

She was fairly sure the Prefects had already retired to bed, so the grimy caretaker was her only worry. Even if she did run into him, he wouldn't be able to see her. It was at this point that Ginny became supremely glad she had brought the invisibility cloak. She felt a measure of safety knowing she could see everything around her, but no one would even bat an eye at her passi – Abruptly the feeling of security fled.

Oddly enough, it decided to leave at the same time Ginny's heart leapt up her throat, her eyes widened, and she felt herself crash into something hard and solid and warm. Something she couldn't see.

"What in the bloody –"

Something that possessed the ability to speak, apparently. Something that possessed the ability to speak with a voice she recognized.

Ginny pulled the cloak off her head. "Malfoy!?"

The something pulled its cloak off its head. "Weasley!?"

Draco was sprawled on the ground his own invisibility cloak pooled in a silvery puddle beneath him. His hair shone, even without the aid of torchlight, looking a bit on the ruffled side to her, which was rare for him. In the darkness she could make out the green of his Quidditch robes (which looked more than good on him, not that she cared) and the expression of complete surprise that she supposed she was mirroring.

They sat like statues for a moment – that is until Ginny realized she was sitting like a statue straddling his waist. Dementors with giant flobberworms couldn't have made her move faster.

Face flaming, she remembered her manners well enough to offer down a hand to help him to his feet. Draco only gave her a disparaging look and got up himself, collecting his cloak in his arms. If she had been thinking beyond her embarrassment she probably could have predicted that reaction.

"I…" Ginny swallowed her words and began again, "you have an invisibility cloak?"

_Oh, that was a brilliant one,_ she berated herself, _perhaps__ next I ought to ask him if the sky is blue. Draco turned on the sarcasm, as she knew he would._

"No. Just a cloak that turns the wearer invisible," he snorted.

"Oh, shut it! I wasn't thinking."

"Wouldn't be the first time," she thought she heard him mutter. He continued in a slightly louder voice, though that wasn't saying much since they both spoke in hushed tones. "And I suppose that's Potter's old rag?"

"Ye – wait. How do you know about that?"

His malicious grin was enough to make her wonder if she really wanted to find out.

 Before he could answer, though, the cry of a cat pierced the darkness. Almost disbelievingly, Ginny turned her head and caught sight of Mrs. Norris padding towards them.

"See somethin' do you, my pet?" Filch's voice floated down the hall. "We'll get'm, don't you worry."

Through a haze of panic she met Draco's eyes, following him clumsily as he wrapped his long finders about her wrist and pulled her swiftly around the next corner. They didn't run long before he opened a heavy wooden door and ducked into the blackness.  She had no choice but to go in after him, the door closing behind them with a dull thud.

"W-where are we?" Ginny asked breathlessly, after a moment of silent panting – more to calm the unsteady fluttering of her heart than because of the short jog. Her wrist tingled where he had grabbed it and she rubbed the appendage self-consciously. 

"No idea," he answered absently. She felt rather than saw him move away, which was understandable because she couldn't see her hand in front of her face. Whether the room stretched out for five or five-hundred feet in front of her she had no way of knowing. Draco must have taken out his wand because he muttered, "Lumos," and she winced at the sudden light.

She could see – the room turned out to be five-hundred feet. Or close to that, at least, and completely empty. 

"What are we supposed to do now?" Her voice echoed in the silent chamber.

Draco shrugged. "Wait for a bit – just until Filch has gone."

"Hmm…" Ginny studied the room curiously, gaze sweeping from side to side until something caught her eye and tugged and wouldn't let go. She pulled out her wand, recited the same spell Draco had, and began moving forward.

"What are you doing?"

"I… I see something…"

He made an exasperated noise, but she could still hear his footsteps as he decided to follow her.

When she was close enough to see what it was, but certainly too far to touch, she stopped. And then she stared, and then she gasped; it was a mirror. _The_ Mirror. And if Ron weren't such a chatterbox sometimes she would have never known it for what it was: The Mirror of Erised.

_This must be where Dumbledore moved it…_ a small part of her noted. Her musings about what she might see in its dusty surface were cut off as she felt Draco come up behind her.

"What is this?" he asked, his glance at the artifact a cursory one.

"It's a mirror…" Ginny murmured, debating whether or not to sneak a look. A little one couldn't hurt…

"Thanks. I couldn't tell."

She decided to ignore the sarcasm. "It can show you your deepest desire."

"Really…" he said as if to himself, his interest renewed. "Are you going to look?"

"I-I'm not sure…"

"What? Scared of what you might see?"

"No! There's nothing to be scared of!" she snapped, then drew a breath. "Are you?"

He didn't answer – instead he strode forward and stood in front of the mirror. Ginny couldn't see his expression, but she thought she could make out his shoulders as they went rigid. For just a moment he was still as stone. When he turned back to her his face was impassive.

"What did you see?" she asked, even though she knew he would as soon kiss a blast-ended skrewt as he would give her a straight answer.

"Something… I didn't expect." He spoke without meeting her eyes, standing to the side, but not out of range of the mirror. "Are you going to look?"

"I guess so…"

Ginny stepped forward, biting her lip, watching her own reflection do the same. Then the image changed, just a bit, and she realized she had been dead wrong. Because if there was nothing to be scared of, then she wouldn't be shaking where she stood. If there was nothing to be scared of then the vision in front of her wouldn't be one of the most terrifying things she had seen in her life. 

Her reflection smiled in purest happiness – certainly she looked happier than she had ever been in reality. This in itself was not a problem, but she wasn't just smiling, she was smiling against Draco's lips. Only it wasn't him, it was his image, and hers, intertwined beneath the dingy glass surface of Erised. Her reflection met Ginny's eyes, turning to face her, Draco's arm looped about her waist, and smiled. And Ginny could only watch as the image stood there – smiling, smiling, smiling…

_I…I don't believe this…_she thought. If she had spoken the words her voice would have shaken with fear. She was afraid, afraid that this was truly her desire because in her heart of hearts she knew it was and because in reality it couldn't possibly be Draco's as well. That image would never come to life. That smile would never grace the outside world. That happiness…

"Why do you still have those things?"     

Her head snapped up. "What?"

"Those pajamas," Draco nodded in the direction of her bedroom attire: the same white-pink nightgown she had worn when they met in the kitchens. "They're… umm… well, _girlish._" The word became an expletive on his lips. 

"Ah, yes," Ginny deadpanned. "Girlish clothing on a girl; the worst of crimes."

He nodded, as if the cynicism had escaped him. "It is rather horrid, don't you think?"

"No. I love it."

"It's absolutely incredible." He seemed to pull the words from thin air, and she knew she was setting herself up for some sort of insult when she asked him what he meant by that. "How long you've been able to hide your lack of proper sight. Amazing." 

The fear that had shaken her seemed suddenly trivial amidst their semi-friendly banter and teasing. She was happy like this. Happy enough.

"I don't think I have to point out to you that I was being sarcastic."

"Really? And you don't feel the urge to scrub your mouth out with soap*?" he asked her quizzically. 

Ginny couldn't help it; she laughed. She hadn't laughed so hard in a long while, and when she was finished she found she had sunk to the floor, along with her reflection who sat comfortably in Draco's lap. _Ridiculous… She quickly looked over at the real Draco and was surprised to discover that he had sat down as well and appeared to be studying her absently._

"Why were you out after-hours, anyway?" she asked as the thought occurred to her. 

"Couldn't sleep," he told her with a shrug. "Thought I'd warm up the pitch since we've got practice first thing. And what about you? Off to meet with Potter for a late-night tryst?"

"No – I've told you I don't like Harry that way," she said with as much solemnity as she could muster, "And anyway I was going to meet with Neville."  

"Right. Longbottom. I should have known." He paused. "I hope you weren't serious when you said that just now."

"Oh, of course I was," said Ginny in mock surprise. She was enjoying this far too much. "Didn't you know? Neville and I are secret lovers."  

 Draco shuddered. "Please, never use that word in reference to that walking disaster again."

"Only for you, Malfoy," she giggled, resisting the crazy urge to call out 'Neville is my lover' many times in succession. After a moment her mind strayed back to more important matters. "Do you suppose it's safe out there now?"

 "One way to find out." He stood and stretched, then began back towards the door without offering to help her up. It irked her as much has she had expected it. She got up by herself and followed, Harry's cloak still clutched in her arms.

Filch had apparently gone, for the hall was as barren as it had been before Draco's appearance. Ginny swept the cloak around her shoulders in spite of the lack of eyes to see her. Draco had either done the same, or had already gone, so she silently took the long way around to the pitch and collected her journal without incident – though she couldn't help but stop to watch Draco fly for just a moment. When the moment passed she turned to head back to Gryffindor tower, wondering that she had seen him in the mirror and unaware that he was wondering the same thing.  

A/N: *This is a reference to the dialogue exchanged in chapter 3, but I wasn't sure if anyone would remember… my apologies if it seemed a bit obscure to you. 

**_Important note:_ yes, I _did_ read Ace of Spade's fic 'Cries' (If you've never read any of her fics, go do so now), but I honestly had the idea before I read it and by the time I realized someone else had already used it I had already incorporated the idea into my story plan and didn't want to remove it, so… that's the sad tale. I think my fic and Ace of Spade's are so completely different, though, that it's not such a big deal, but still… I'm sorry!! **

Eh… ok, I guess I'll answer some reviews, then:

Bulma Greenleaf: I don't think I'll have much problem avoiding those raging stampedes… you don't see to many of those, these days – it's a darn shame… *shakes head sadly*… Oh, well! I'm like the Energizer Bunny (which I don't own, in case you were wondering… Oh, you weren't? Well, ok, then…) I just keep going and going ^^! …Until I finish the story, anyway…

Cassie: This may be extremely stupid and ignorant of me, but… what's KKOL? @.@ I've never heard that before and it confuses me… hehe, sorry about the ending of that last chapter… but I'm glad you like the story!!!

Leena: Well, It's hard to write Draco and Ginny fanfiction _at all_ without OOC-ness, considering Draco is supposed to be pure evil in the actual books… but this is fanfiction, so who cares ^^? The answer: I do! Yipes! I'm always stressed over OOC-ness with this fic (I was so scared to read the reviews, I had to force myself look at them… sad, huh?) so it's relieving to hear I'm doing a good job! 

Yami's Girl Forever: *drops chapter on the ground and backs slooooowly away from the chainsaw* hehe – look, I updated sort of quickly! Remember, if I'm horribly mutilated in a chainsaw accident I won't be able to continue this fic!! …So… Hermione/Harry, eh? The truth is, I don't know how to write Harry, so it's easier to have Ron paired with Herm – that way I can have less of Harry in the overall story (I am not above glossing over the details I know nothing about and am too lazy to research. You'll notice I've kept Voldemort completely out so far – well, it's going to stay that way! *laughs evilly*… mainly because I have no idea what to do with old Voldie… he's too complicated.). Now, I'm off to work on the next chapter – Bye! *Runs screaming from Chainsaw of Death*

The Girl Who Loves To Read: Well, maybe not a humane side so much as an 'I-don't-want-Ginny-to-do-me-bodily-harm-for-chucking-her book-out-the-window-so-I'd-better-get-out-of-here-before-she-finds-out' side, but still… he went to help, didn't he? 

Mandy: ¡Hola, amiga! ¡Muchas Gracias! Whee – you must have had such fun speaking Spanish! I know I always do… Well, I have no idea how the weather is in England – I think it's rainy most if the time… oh well… I just won't talk much of the weather when the ball finally comes…  


	9. Premonition

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 9:

Premonition

          Professor Sibyll Trelawney was troubled. Yes, that's right, _troubled_. It wasn't every day the nearly infallible serenity of Hogwarts' resident Divination teacher failed. She could only hope it wouldn't interfere with her spiritual dealings. 

          Only a matter of possibly dire consequence could bring Sibyll Trelawney to such a state – and the matter was this: there had been something… off… about the stars the previous night. It was very subtle, but the stars often worked in secretive ways. Yes, long hours would be required to figure out this mystery. Perhaps she could look in to it once the students were off on winter break, she would only have to wait a week…

          It was the last Saturday lesson until after the Winter Break. Draco couldn't have been more relieved. _Thank Merlin, he thought as he waited across from Ginny for the session to begin, so that it could end. _I couldn't take much more of this._ He decided not to think about the fact that the lessons would continue when he returned to Hogwarts._

          The entire Hall was buzzing with excitement at the impending freedom from the monotony of their classes (well, about as much monotony as one could find at a school of witchcraft and Wizardry). And Draco could hardly blame them – he was in a rather good mood himself – though blame them he would, just for the fun of it. 

          He scanned the occupants of the Hall once more before glancing discreetly at his partner, a.k.a. his 'Deepest Desire' or some-such nonsense. Damn mirror… he didn't believe one whit of that rubbish! Yes, she was lovely to look at, and sure, her company was more than tolerable, but deepest desire? There had to be something he wanted more than a… a _relationship – he scoffed at the word – with her.  _

Still… he _had_ been uncomfortably aware of the youngest Weasley since that night, more so than ever before. And he didn't like it. Not a bit. 

          "Please stop that noise, Weasel. You're giving me a headache," said Draco, with only minimal sneering. Whether she had realized it or not, Ginny had been humming a light, lilting sound, too low to be heard by anyone but him and perhaps her closest neighbors. A small, secretive smile dominated her features. The combination drove him to distraction, calling his eyes to her since he had first entered the room.

          _More aware…_he snorted inwardly.

          "What?" She looked towards him, surprised. "What noise?"  

          "You were humming," he informed her gravely. She blushed in embarrassment.

          "Oh! I was? Sorry, I didn't notice…" The embarrassment faded with the color in her cheeks and she was smiling absently again.

          "What are you smiling about?"

          "Oh, am I smiling?" He raised a brow as if to say she knew she was, and the smile widened until it was radiant. "I must be in a good mood, then – the holidays are coming up, you know what that means."

          "Enlighten me."

          "Two weeks," she sighed in bliss. "Two weeks free of school… and free of you!" This last was tossed off as an afterthought accompanied by a short giggle. He doubted she was serious, but before he could ask any questions Professor Trelawney swept semi-dramatically into the room.

          "My dears," she began as she made her way to the front of the Great Hall. "This is our last session together for many a night, especially since the first scheduled lesson upon your return will be called off on account of faculty difficulties. You will, of course, be practicing over the holidays, so today we shall simply review all of what we have learned so far. Let's begin with the Pavane, shall we?"

          The assembled students shifted into their starting positions with only a nominal amount of muttered complaints. After so many weeks most had become accustomed to the lessons, or if not that at least a bit more numb to the weekly hour or so of utter boredom. In Draco's case it was most definitely the latter.

          A slow, measured tune took to the air, signaling the start of the dance and the end of Professor Trelawney's instructions. 

          "So you're not going to miss my company, I take it?" Draco took the opportunity to ask. 

          "I'm sure the lack of proper sarcasm will get to me eventually," said Ginny in a tone that wavered, quivering like a bow string, between serious and teasing. 

          "Yes, the loss of your fumbled attempts at witticism will be dually noted on my part as well."

          "Flattering," she said dismissively. An irritable feeling of unknown origin swept through him. One did not dismiss Draco Malfoy.

          Apparently it was a day for phenomenous happenings. Not only was Draco Malfoy dismissed – and by a Weasley of all people – but he also wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. Though inside he bristled quietly, irked more than he should have been at that tone of voice.

          The final week before the winter holidays passed relatively quickly, despite Ginny's almost religious anticipation of her two weeks of freedom. _All_ of her brothers would be home in time for Christmas – it had been ages since she had seen Bill and Charlie, and she had even begun to miss the twins, who had moved out straight away after opening 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.' She couldn't remember the last time the whole family got together (well, actually, she could, but it had been a few years back). After Bill left the house it had seemed all but impossible to bring the entire Weasley family together more than four times a year and as her brothers grew older that number dwindled.

          Oh, she could hardly wait! The gigantic real pine tree, complete with authentic fairy lights, the piles of brightly wrapped presents, the epic snowball fights and Quidditch matches, the home-made pies – though they had those every year – that was the stuff Christmas Holidays were made of. Just the daydreams were enough to make her want to burst with happiness. 

          Not even Malfoy could bring her down, though he didn't do much of that anymore. Not for lack of trying, mind you.

          Actually she had been avoiding the mere thought of him for some time. Thoughts of Draco inevitably lead to thoughts of the 'mirror incident' as she was now referring to it. And she really hadn't wanted to think about that. Of course, she would have to eventually, and since she didn't want it weighing on her mind during the holiday wonders that awaited her, she had opted to find an empty compartment at the back of the Hogwarts Express – in the very last car, actually – in order to sort out theses thoughts. 

          After what she judged to be half the ride Ginny had come to some not-so-startling conclusions. 

          First: she rather liked Draco – no, she _really liked him. She still had a hard time believing he was her 'deepest desire,' and she hadn't the funniest idea of how it could have happened, but ignoring the fact wasn't going to make it go away. That had never worked in the past, at any rate._

          Second: he probably didn't feel the same way. Well, he hadn't given her any indication that he did, anyway. Draco had had his fair share of girlfriends; if he wanted something from her, he would have gone about getting it by now.

          And third: this was achingly reminiscent of her old crush on Harry. They were both quite similar, really: one-sided, hopeless, and utterly ridiculous. The only difference she could see was that she knew Draco better than she had ever known Harry.

          Ginny blinked. She knew Draco better…? Now that was something she never thought would happen. A dry chuckle escaped her lips as she turned her eyes to the window and watched the scenery rush by in a blur of green and brown.

          She supposed, like with Harry, she would get over it eventually….

          The sound of her car door sliding on its metal tracks jarred her from her thoughts and she glanced up, surprised, as the door came closed with a loud clap. There, leaning against the door, out of breath and looking more the worse for wear, was the very object of her speculations. Draco's eyes found her after a moment and he gave a relieved sigh, the entire performance earning him a puzzled look in return.   

          "Well?" Ginny asked after a few silent minutes, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?"

          "What? Do I need a reason to visit my favorite Weasel?"

          "Oh, so I'm your favori –" A whining voice from somewhere outside the car interrupted her.

          "Draco! Draco?" 

Said boy cringed visibly. 

The sight was too much for Ginny. She erupted into giggles, trying desperately to stifle them. Just as the task was deemed impossible, she felt a firm hand clamp over her mouth. The skin was warm and dry, and she felt herself flush. When she looked up, Draco was staring at her, warning clear in his eyes. At least she had managed to stop laughing.

          They listened silently for a moment, ears straining, until the heavy fall of footsteps faded back from where they had come and the sound of a door opening and closing again echoed down the empty hall. Draco let his hand fall from her mouth, letting out a breath, and sagging into the seat across from her, next to her carry-on bag.

          "Thank Merlin," he muttered, as if to himself. Ginny arched a brow.

          "Part of your fan club?"

          He favored her with a disparaging look. "Parkinson," he answered shortly. 

            "Oh, you poor thing," she said, in mock sympathy. Then she brightened. "Did you actually run from her? Or was all that panting just for show?"

          "I couldn't take it anymore! I had to escape somehow," he told her defensively. "You would have done the same, believe me."

          "I don't believe it! Draco Malfoy being chased down by a girl his own age and a fellow Slytherin to boot… Wish I could've seen it…"

          "You might, someday. It's not such a rare occurrence, you know," he grinned. 

          "Oh, you wish."

          "I'll have you know I've been chased by more than enough girls in my time." It certainly wasn't a false statement, not that Ginny was about to say anything to him. Though, judging by the size of his ego he was already aware. "I'll bet even you secretly drool over me."

          That one struck a little too close to home.

          "Give me a break! The only time I'd ever drool over you is in your dreams!" It certainly _was_ a false statement, not that she would ever say anything to him. 

          "Really?" Before she could stop him, Draco plucked a black, leather-bound journal from her bag. "Then there's nothing about me in here?"

          "Hey – you can't look at that!"

          He only glanced stonily at her from over the top of the open book as her words went unheeded.

          "It's just a drawing," she huffed. "It doesn't mean anything."

          Instead of responding he continued to stare intently at the drawing, shifting his eyes to her and back periodically. His expression turned thoughtful.

          "What?" she asked warily.

          "It's just…" he trailed off and shook his head gravely.

          "What is it…?" Ginny hated to admit it, but the somber note in his voice and the gravity in his gaze were beginning to make her apprehensive.

          "I think…" he sighed and the apprehension grew. "Well, I probably shouldn't be the one to tell you this, but I'm pretty sure you… you made my nose too long here – I'm no artist, but –"

          "You idiot! Give me that!"

          Fuming, she made a grab for the book, reaching across the compartment. Draco just laughed at the attempt as he stood and raised the object above his head, almost completely out of her reach. 

She had never realized just how much taller than her he was. Sure, her brothers were nearly all walking giants (even Ron had a bit of height on Draco), but Ginny herself had never been quite able to keep up the tradition. She stood a meek 5" 5' to Draco's 5" 11.' If she wanted the book back she would have jump for it.

And, in a fit of indignant fury, she did.

She really had to learn not to trust the decisions made in such fits.         

Her outstretched hand collided with the thick dragon-hide, and the rest of her clumsily bounced off the solid wall of Draco's chest. She stumbled backwards, tripping over her own feet and pulling him down with her by their combined grips on her journal. Over the wild beating of her heart, she could hear him mutter a curse. The arm he slipped around her waist to steady her didn't calm the fluttering one bit. 

It took a moment for Ginny to register the fact that she hadn't landed hard on the floor of her cabin. She cracked an eye open. It took a few moments longer for her to register the closeness of Draco's face to hers. He was leaning over her, holding her to him with an arm, as a result of their near-crash. 

Beneath the layers of her winter clothing, she began to sweat, her muscles tensing as threads of fire laced her skin. They formed a well in the pit of her stomach; the flames devoured her conscious thought, licking at the pressure where Draco leaned into her. His gaze unreadable, he bent over and kissed her. 

The journal fell, forgotten, to the floor.

And Ginny didn't notice; she wasn't aware of anything outside of Draco and the feeling of unfettered flight. 

To save her life, Ginny couldn't have said how long it lasted, but eventually one of them broke the contact. She couldn't help backing away just a few steps, taking deep, wavering breaths. Silence reigned for a time, the tension palpable in the air, heavy with the moment's memory.

"W-what'd you do that for…?" she asked, in a near whisper. The room seemed to come back to life, out of the uncomfortable stillness.

"Well – I… I don't know…" he said, and that… hurt. "What kind of question is that?" 

Slowly Ginny's brows drew downwards into a frown, a pained anger welling up inside her. He didn't know. He _didn't know_. 

"Fine, then," she said coldly. "Don't let it happen again."

She brushed past him, though not fast enough to miss the slight widening of his eyes, and made to slide open the door, wondering where he got the nerve to use her that way. It didn't budge. She tried again, with similar results (or lack there of).

"What did you do to this door?" she snapped.

"What do you mean? I didn't touch it!"

Ginny stepped aside, and Draco moved in to try his hand. Nothing happened.

"Are you _sure_ you didn't do anything to it?"

"Why would I purposely lock myself in a room with a Weasley?"

"I don't know, you tell me!"

"Oh, please – you can't seriously believe –"

"I can _believe_ whatever I want!" 

"Yeah, well so can I! How do I know you're not the one who locked us in?"

"Me! That's ridiculous; I'm not the one who…"

And so their second train ride together ended much the same as their first, with Ginny storming out of the cabin as soon as it was opened only pausing to snatch her handbag from the seat. Behind her in the empty car, Draco bent down to pick up the forgotten journal and sighed. But she was gone long before she could see it.

A/N: I don't like this chapter. *shrugs* but then, I don't like most of the stuff I turn out, so… anyway – yes, Draco saw Ginny in the mirror. I thought I made it sort of clear in the last line of the last chapter… but I guess not… hehe… sorry. I would have had this out earlier, but ff.net was being mean… Now, on to the reviews, for which I am extremely grateful (I'm not going to answer some of the one-liners because all I can say is thanks):

Lady of Night: Oy – I know just how you feel! I get so addicted to some stories, that I don't want to read anything else after that… but of course, I do anyway… I doubt you're _that_ attached to my story, but it makes me happy to hear that you like it so much ^^

FyreFaerieGinny: L-longer chapters!? Wow – I thought I was doing a pretty good job with the length… I used to write chapters that were only half this size (shocking, yes?)! This _is_ long for me (how sad…-.-)! Besides, you don't really want longer chapters! Remember: longer chapter = longer time between updates. Oh – and, yeah, you guessed right about what Draco saw! 

Yami's Girl Forever: Oh, just for a day or two? Hehe… how comforting -.-… Anyway, about Voldemort: how is it that a boy who is only 11-14 years old can defeat one of the strongest wizards of all time? I mean, I love the HP books, but that's just sad! And it really doesn't do much for Voldie's evil image… *mutters* stupid Voldemort… Erm… anyway, blame the lateness of this chapter on ff.net! Whooo! Stop the violence, increase the peace! (eh… did I just say that?)

Bulma Greenleaf: Ha! You're Evil-Pink-Fuffy-Teddybears-of-Doom bear no threat to me! Thanks to my evil twin brother, I've become immune to the form of torture known as 'poking'! …Eh… but that's ok, because I'll keep going anyway! …hey, that rhymed… I'm a poet and I didn't ev – You know what, rather than repeat an already highly over-used pun, I'm just going to stop talking now. Bye!

Slytherin Psyche: Hehe… I was all warm and tingly inside when I read your review ^^! As if I had just read a nice piece of D/G fluff! But whenever someone leaves me such a wonderful review, I always feel like I'm going to let them down by writing poorly in the next chapter – I really hope this chapter wasn't disappointing to you! But feel free to tell me if it was – I think the next chapter will be better!

N/A: Yes, he did see what she saw – but I really thought I at least hinted at it in the last chapter!! Oh well… Yeah, him going to help is good… just not for Ginny!

Mandy: Yeah, 'English Summer' my ass… well, actually I've never been to England, so I guess I can't say… I'm just going to make the weather like it is here – odds are, no one will notice. And don't worry about the scholarship – it's in the bag! (he's on the phone as I speak – er… type… whatever…)


	10. The Getaway

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 10:

The Getaway 

          It was nearing Christmas. Color-changing tinsel, large, singing baubles, and crudely wrapped presents were sprouting up faster than garden gnomes during summer. The burrow was filled to near-bursting with the smell of home-cooked meals and the general holiday cheer – not to mention the Weasley family themselves. A happier household couldn't be found…

          …and yet, Ginny was stuck in bed feeling thoroughly miserable.

          Well, she wasn't completely miserable, of course. The grins of her family were infectious and she had been looking forward to this for quite some time… but that last fight with Draco had put her off, and while the presence of her elder brothers was enough to push such thoughts to the back of her mind, she had come home only to find that she ached all over and her head would not stop pounding. So, she was sent to bed with little else to do but dwell on a certain Slytherin whom she currently wished she had never met.

          _Blast!_ Her mind growled as she tapped her pencil against a blank page. _If only he hadn't – if only I hadn't – Ginny glared down at the page in frustration. Merely a piece of scrap paper and not her magnificent, leather-bound journal. That served as a reminder of yet _another_ thing that had gone wrong on that fateful train ride. She had – for the third bleeding time! – lost the book that Charlie had given her. Hopefully her elder brother wouldn't inquire of its presence._

           _And if Dra – Malfoy hadn't decided to barge in on me I would still have the damn book! But by now, did she even want the stupid thing back? The book seemed to be a lot more trouble than it was worth… especially after she had sketched Draco in it…__That jerk… If only… if only – argh! I hate him!_

          She wished, at the moment, that that there was a little more truth to that last statement. She feared she was beginning to miss his presence.

          _Oh, if only – _

          "Ginny?" Molly Weasley peered into the room. "How are you doing, sweetheart?"

          Ginny had to refrain from rolling her eyes. She might have come to expect it from her brothers, but couldn't her mother learn to knock?

           "I'm feeling better, Mum," Ginny said, trying her hardest to sound as if that were really true. If anything she was feeling worse, but after spending the first half of her vacation confined to bed she was rather desperate for escape. 

          "Enough to come shopping with us this afternoon?" her mother asked, crossing the room. The bed sank beneath her weight, groaning like the living dead.

          "I think so."

          "Are you sure, dear?"

          "Ye-es, Mom, I'm sure! Please, let me go – I haven't finished my Christmas shopping yet!" Maybe she was coming off as a little desperate, but… well, she _was_ desperate, and her mum would probably mistake it for pent up energy anyway. 

          "Well… alright," her mother caved, "we'll be leaving as soon as I can round up a couple of your brothers, so you hurry and get ready."

          "Okay!" Ginny chirped, with a smile that was just a little too large. Her hands itched to literally push her mother out the door, but she opted instead to wait until her mother had safely closed the door behind her before rising unsteadily from the bed. The wooden floor felt good against her bare feet; it was cool and gritty, like sand in the shade. 

          It was also just as old and battered as everything else in the burrow.

          She glanced around her room. The patchwork quilts atop her bed were rumpled into miniature mountains. Yellowing curtains hung about her window listlessly, like ghosts, the too-bright winter sunlight reflecting off the snow and streaming in through the panes. Old books and clothes and all sorts of odds and ends were strewn about her floor as if flung by the cold hands of a hurricane. 

This was her home and as much as she loved it, spending too much time alone here tended to bring her spirits down.

          Ginny sighed and moved haltingly to the dresser where she stopped to lean against it. She had no fever, but her head was pounding and her bones felt as if they were slowly being ground into dust. It was the oddest illness she had ever had. But she would just have to suck it up. She was going to get out for a while, and that was that!

          Quickly she dressed, took a moment to find her balance, and then hurried out the door.__

_          If only… he'd meant it… when he kissed me…_

          Diagon Alley was always bustling, always packed with people possessing varying degrees of oddity, always squirming with the throngs of witches and wizards. It would be overwhelming to one who was new to the experience – which Ginny certainly was not. 

It was actually something of a comfort to be back among the public, flanked by Bill and Percy, and followed by her parents. So much so, that by the time they had stepped into Flourish and Blott's for a look around, the ache that had plagued her all of winter break was practically gone.

Ginny smiled as she absently browsed the lesser-known literature section, stopping every now and then to glance at anything that caught her eye. She tipped a book off the shelf and took in the title. _'Reach for the Stars: a guide to making your dreams come true!'_  the cover read, in bold, colorful letters. _What the…?_ Ginny snorted, _Draco would probably say it was -  She_ stopped that thought before it could go any further. She didn't care what he would say.

"Ginny! Hurry it up, eh? – We're leaving!" Bill poked his head around the corner, beckoning her with a movement of his hand.

"Already?" she asked, brows raised, as she slipped the book back onto the shelf. "We just got here."

Her brother heaved a sigh. "Percy's dragging us to Gringott's."

Ginny blinked. "What for?"

"It's Perce. Do you really have to ask? Probably something boring, dull, Ministry related, and…" he paused, as if deep in thought. "have I already said boring?" 

 "And… you mean 'us' as in Mum and Dad, right?"

"Um… no." Ginny gasped in mock horror. "I'm afraid Mum'll come after me with a pair scissors in my sleep if I skip out on this one – she's got that look in her eye… you know the one." Bill fingered his growing rope of hair nervously. 

"Is there any hope for me?" Ginny asked, brow creased with worry. Whatever form of torture-by-boredom Percy had decided to inflict on them this time, she was less than up to it. She had just gotten out of the hospital ward that was her room and she was _not_ going to spend who knew how long in yet another prison. 

"I can't say for sure… but it's probably worth a try. Don't just disappear, though. Make an excuse and I'll try to back you up – you can do it while we're waiting in line," Bill rolled his eyes. "Percy needs a new planner. You'd think his head would fall of without one."

Ginny was compelled to agree with his assessment. She snickered quietly as they made there way toward their family.

What was she supposed to say? No matter how well she insisted she was feeling her parents would be reluctant to let her out of their sight alone… so it had to be something good… Her eyes darted to her parents, who were fussing over the charms on Percy's planner. Something _really good…_She scanned the crowds as her mind raced, trying to grasp at the loose threads of anything that could save her from a lackluster doom. _Anything…_

Her gaze panned the shop, swooping across the store-front window where it lurched to a graceless stop. Her eyes must have been the size of dinner plates, but she took no note of it; her thoughts all seemed to swim in one direction, screeching at her in one voice. _What is he doing here?!_

And then, as if he had heard her mental cries, he casually turned to glance into the shop and the slate-grey eyes of Draco Malfoy widened as dramatically as her own.

Through a sort of surprised haze she offered him a timid, apologetic smile, and was thoroughly shocked when she thought she saw his lips quirk upwards in response.             

_…Or anyone._

"Oy – Gin, who's that? Your new boyfriend?"

"NO!" she snapped automatically. Bill held up his hands defensively. 

"Hey – it's what anyone would think with you two making eyes at each other like that…"

"I was not –" Ginny huffed, cutting off as Bill merely smiled at her. There was no convincing some people.

"Aw… my little sis is all grown up…" She slugged his arm and he subsided. "So, what's his name?"

"Oh… er…" she faltered, glancing over at her parents who stood a few feet away. She couldn't tell him the truth, and Bill had never met Draco anyway… a name popped into her head and she spit it out before she could think on it. "Colin Creevey!"

Mentally Ginny slapped herself.

"Colin Creevey?" Bill echoed.

"Y-yeah… he's a friend from school…" she continued, a little louder than necessary, shooting glances at her parents to make sure they were listening. "Wow – it's been such a long time since we've spoken… we had a bit of a row before the hols, you know, and I wish I had the time to apologize… Say, do you think I could go catch up with him for a while…?"

"Oh, Ginny dear, I don't know –" her mother started.

"Please, Mum? I'll meet up with you guys later."

Her mother frowned. "Ginny, do I know this boy?"

Ginny's eyes widened for the second time that day. "Mo-om! He's just a friend!" _Sort of… "And anyway, he's – he's… not interested in girls!"_

Draco would hate her for this if he ever found out.

"I believe I remember young Colin," Percy cut in, "as a fairly upstanding – if a bit… overenthusiastic – student."

"I don't know…" her mother began slowly, and Ginny could hear the walls crumbling beneath her thoughtful tone. She was caving.

"Ah, just let her go, Mum," said Bill. "It's not like she's still in her nappies."

"I'm only worried – you know she hasn't been feeling well…"

"I feel fine!" Ginny all but shouted. She was becoming impatient. But not because she could have been talking to Draco instead. It wasn't that at all.

"She'll be fine, Molly," her father stepped in, and Ginny could see the battle had been won. Had she told her dad recently how much she loved him?

 "Well… alright," her mother agreed reluctantly. Ginny didn't wait to hear anymore. With a quick 'meet you at Leaky's in a couple hours' she was out the door.

Well, actually she collided with Draco before she could reach it. She looked into his face for a moment and, recalling that she might still be in view of her family, pulled him from the shop by his sleeve with all due haste. 

After they were a more than reasonable distance from Flourish and Blott's Ginny stopped, leaning against the nearest wall and panting. When she regained her breath she noticed that Draco was staring at her.  

She laughed nervously, trying to ease the tension in the air even as it began to seep inside of her. 

What was she even doing here, with him? Was she really so starved for his presence? She could have just left, pretended not to know him. She could have just run after 'Colin.' Bill might have noticed – he was observant about such things – but no one else would have. She wondered… would he have gone after her, if she hadn't latched onto him? 

Warily, Ginny looked up at her companion. He was still staring, his mouth thinned subtly and his brows drawn up just so. His expression could only be described as contemplative, rather than fierce or intimidating as she might have thought months prior. But nevertheless, he was _still_ staring. 

"What?" she asked. It came out a little harsher than she'd intended.

"Was that really necessary?"

She frowned. "Was what really necessary?"

"You know – the running down crowded, narrow streets and forgetting the person attached to your arm…"

"I'm sorry, I don't see where you're going with this…"

"And I shouldn't have expected you to – but while you were weaving in and out of people and brick walls alike, didn't you give any thought at all to the fact that you could've flung me into numerous harmful objects?"

"Eh… did I?" she asked meekly.

Draco shrugged and leaned against the wall beside her. "Nah, but that's the last time I let you drag me around."      

 Ginny contemplated him for a moment, tension alleviated, then grinned deviously.

"No, it's not!" 

"Wha?–" was all Draco had time to get out before Ginny grabbed him again, by the hand this time, and took off down the street.

"Remind me again why we're here."

Ginny only glanced at him.

"Well… I was sort of hungry… this just seemed like the place to go." She shrugged and reclined back into her chair by the fire of the Leaky Cauldron. It wasn't long before he did the same. 

They listened to the fire hiss and spit for a while.

"You want me to get you something to eat, don't you?"

Evidently, that surprised her enough to make her sit up and stare at him, incredulousness etched into her features. She narrowed those chocolate eyes at him in suspicion. 

"_You're offering?"_

Draco could only shrug, not really sure why he had spoken in the first place. If he did buy her something… well… that would be almost.... That would be the sort of thing one did for a date – not loudmouthed, rambunctious, fire-spitting, childish, fun, brilliant, gorgeous... Just not Ginny Weasley!    

  Gods, barely over a week without even a glance at her and now it was as if he was on the wrong end of some seriously debilitating withdrawal symptoms. He was losing his head around her faster than a muggle might in the Ministry of Magic– had already lost it one time before. 

A tiny voice in the back of his mind told him he wouldn't mind losing it again, but he quashed it like a bug before it could get any louder. 

They had come to the unspoken agreement that nothing had happened. They had never met up on the train, he didn't still have that stupid journal, he had never… Well, there was nothing to talk about. Nothing had happened.

"No," he finally told her. It didn't come out as harsh as he had hoped.

"That's what I thought," Ginny sighed, and dropped back into her chair. He tried to keep from cringing when he thought he detected disappointment in her voice. _ When did I become so soft? If this keeps up, he thought morbidly,__ I'll be a walking marshmallow come spring…_

He was shocked to find that it didn't seem to matter as much as it once had.

 He had come to Diagon Alley on a whim – the manor was dull around the holidays and he needed to blow some of his Christmas cash; this was just as good a place as any to do it. He hadn't expected to run into Ginny, and he definitely hadn't expected to spend any time at all with her, much less to actually want to….

But here he was, sitting by her side in front of a roaring fire and contemplating offering – seriously, this time – to treat her to lunch. 

"But…" Draco broke the silence suddenly. He couldn't help it. "I suppose… it would be cruel to let you starve…"    

Ginny stared at him as if he had just grown another head.

"Well –" She never got the chance to say anything more.

          "Hello, hello! Hope I'm not interrupting anything"

          They both turned to look at the new-comer and it wasn't hard to guess who he was. Long red hair, faded freckles, grungy clothing – this was one of Ginny's brothers. Deep, deep inside of him, Draco started to worry.

          "Bill! I thought you were with –"       

          "I was, but we were all getting kind of hungry, so I offered to go ahead and find us a table – you know, in case there was a long wait."

          "Oh, you're so thoughtful," Ginny rolled her eyes, and Draco began to feel distinctly out of place as Bill turned his eyes to him.

          "You're that Creevey fellow, aren't you?"

          It was probably a good thing they had never ordered any food, because if Draco had been eating at that moment, he probably would have spit it out into Bill's face.

          Why on earth did this moron seem to believe he was a hyperactive member of the Harry Potter fan club?

          "Yup – this is him," Ginny inserted before he had the chance to get a word in. She silenced him with a threatening glare, and he decided to go along with it rather than suffer personal injury.

          "Nice to meet you," Draco muttered sullenly. Ginny elbowed him in the ribs and he straightened up, shaking Bill's hand with a little more gusto.

          "Hope you're treating my little sister well," Bill winked. Draco shot an alarmed glance at Ginny – what exactly had she told him about 'Colin'?

          Ginny just laughed, though it sounded a little forced to Draco's ears. "I already told you – he doesn't like girls." Draco choked. "Anything wrong, _Colin_?"

          "Something in my throat," he managed, cowed by the edge in her voice.

          "You mean you're really…?" Bill trailed off, probably scared of offending him. "I thought Gin was just making that up…"

          Oh-ho, what she going to get it for _this!_

          "No." His eye twitched. "My camera is my only love."

          "You have a camera?" Bill asked with interest. "Where is it?"                                                                                                                                                                             "Um… it's… in my pocket…"

          "Really? I didn't know they made cameras that small."

          "Yes," he deadpanned, tossing his shriveled dignity out the window. "It's very delicate."

          "I bet Dad'll want to see it."

          "No, it's custom made, no one else can –"

          "Where _is_ Dad, anyway?" Ginny asked suddenly. 

          "Well, he and Mum should be here soon – Oh" Bill nodded towards the doorway. "There's Perce, now."

Draco could see Ginny's eyes darting for escape, and they found it in the bottle of floo powder atop the mantle. 

"Tell everyone we've gone to… to Hogsmeade. We'll be back later!"

She left no room for protest as the green flames roared to life and swallowed her up. Draco shifted uncomfortably in her absence. He guessed she expected him to follow…

"Um… bye," he said to Bill, who looked faintly perplexed. 

The last thing he saw before the rush of the floo network was Ginny's other brother, Percy, as he came up to speak with Bill.

"Nice chap, that Colin," Bill remarked conversationally, to Percy after the fire had resumed its normal color.

"I'm sure," Percy replied, with little interest. The younger Weasley wrinkled his nose. "But I'm sorry you had to meet with Malfoy's son, just now. That git." Bill decided to remain silent. "Say, have you seen Ginny? She said she'd meet us here."

"She's gone to Hogsmeade," said Bill, "With…_Colin."_

A/N: Eight entire pages! Yeesh… I had a hard time writing this chapter, for some reason… but oh well. This is supposed to be a fun chapter – I don't think I do 'fun' very well. The next chapter should be pure fluff, so I don't think this it's going to be much easier for me… Anyway, I want to say thanks for the reviews! They are much appreciated. 

Socchan: No problemo – I'm actually sort of embarrassed to have you read this story because… I dunno – it's _Harry Potter and… I guess I never thought I'd be writing something like this (it's too light and fluffy .! Agh!). I'm planning on a dark-ish IY fic after this – I miss writing anime!! Gah – anyway, you're so lucky! I wish I was on vacation… Is that why you haven't updated 'Hanyou in Tokyo' for so long?? I hope you update soon (But if you're not at home now, at least you have a decent excuse ^_~)!_

Rach W.: Haha… I don't know what to say – compliments embarrass me .! I hope this was an okay chapter… I didn't really like it, and I had problems with the dialogue… eh – hopefully the next chapter will make up for it because that's when they finally get together!! Whoo! Of course, they break up again later, but that's further down the road… hehe…

MiMercury: Ginny is an amazing character? Hehe… I like hearing that, but I wonder if I'm being true to her character in the book… the Ginny in the new HP book seemed a little more… outspoken than mine… Oh well – Draco is still cute, right? 

Emily22: Yeah, I get what you're saying – I've been trying to make things seem coincidental – you know like… when there's something that seems insignificant, but then later it turns out that it was a big deal? Or when everything kind of comes together at the end? Well, that's what I wanted to do, but… I can't tell if it's working -.-;… Did you mean something like that, or am I just making no sense (I do that sometimes -.-)?

Mandy: See, look, they're getting along fine here… sort of. Ah, well, it's my belief that you can't pair Draco with anybody without a lot of bickering! And maybe that's not completely true, but it'll hold for this story ^^… yes, that's right – the fighting will continue!! Haha!!

Yami's Girl Forever: It's okay… I'm a little partial to violence myself… *strokes lead pipe absently*… Erm… anyway – I always thought that someone, at some point, at least once, should call Voldemort Voldie! It would be funny! And J.K.R. has to get tired of typing 'Voldemort' over and over again, right? Maybe someday, she'll get tired of it… Voldemort is a pretty long name, you know… hehe… Ok, off the subject of voldemort for a moment; there was one thing about your review that really got to me… 'Your probably too sophisticated for cartoons' –  hahaha… that's hilarious! Me, sophisticated… *snorts* I love cartoons! They are my favorite form of entertainment (besides manga) – talk about cartoons all you want ^^! Doesn't bother me a bit. And… don't worry… the chainsaw is always fresh in my mind…

FyreFaerieGinny: You giggled?? *squeals* Ah! Someone giggled at my story!!!! Whooo!! Haha… calming down now… *ahem*… I always giggle at my favorite stories… after I read a good part, I can't stop smiling! My face gets stuck like this ^_____^ … hehe, so what'd you think of this chapter length? I thought this was a little longer than normal… but maybe that's just me ^^;;


	11. Snow Day

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 11:

Snow Day

Ginny stumbled out of the fireplace and into the laughter and din of the Three Broomsticks. The tavern was full and no one seemed to notice her added presence. She coughed and wiped the soot from her face with a sleeve.

          Light sifted through the room from the wall sconces – lit even though it was day outside – so everything appeared to be bathed in gold. The patrons all looked happy, crowded around their tables in groups of threes and fives, laughing uproariously every now and then, and just sitting and talking over a warm meal and a butterbeer. Madame Rosmerta shifted around the place like the hostess of a family reunion, stopping here and there to take an order and smiling and making unnecessary conversation.   

There was a familial glow about the place; it was cheery and warm and Ginny wondered that Draco had never withered and died in such atmosphere.

Behind her the flames spit out another person.

_Speak of the Devil…_

"Did it occur to you that we could have pretended not to know each other?" were the first words out of his mouth. 

"O-obviously not…" Ginny faltered. 

Why did he always make her feel stupid? 

"We could have skipped the whole 'Draco's a puff*' thing, you know – no one would really believe it of me, anyway."

"Bill sure seemed to," she pointed out.

"Oh, shut up."

Alternately stupid and sugar high?

She tried to stifle the giggles stemming from her throat – it didn't work. Draco let out a long-suffering sigh as he came up beside her. She looked up at him, cautiously studying his scowl.

"You have soot in your hair," she said after a moment. 

"So do you." He shrugged as if he didn't care, but ran a hand through his hair anyway. Where before there had been only a fine layer of black dust, there were now numerous gray streaks among his near-white locks. For some reason that bothered Ginny a little more than it should have.

"Jeez, you've made it worse," she mumbled, reaching up before she could stop herself. 

Dusting the ashes out was an easy job, but his hair was incredibly fine beneath her fingers and maybe that was why she spent a little longer on the task than absolutely necessary.

When she stepped back to admire her handiwork, she noticed his eyes were a bit wider than usual. Good; she wasn't the only one left in the dust sometimes. 

Draco blinked out of his stupor and scowled.

"Thanks, _Mum_," he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets as if they had somehow offended him. 

"Your welcome, dear," said Ginny without missing a beat. "Ah… should we… find a table? Or something?" 

It had just occurred to her that this was the first time they weren't sharing presences out of absolute necessity – what if she had misjudged him? What if he just… walked away?

But he didn't. He only shrugged in the aloof kind of way that he did when he wanted you to think he didn't care. 

And so it was that Ginny found herself sitting across from Draco at a table for two and feeling as if she were on her first date – which she certainly was _not!     _

"Why were you visiting Diagon Alley, anyway?" Ginny asked as the thought occurred to her. 

"I had some extra cash lying around," Draco said, as if it were nothing at all, "so I thought I'd see if there was anything worthwhile to spend it on."

"Don't you _always_ have cash lying around?"

"Well, of course – but this is… you know, Christmas money, I guess…" 

Ginny frowned. "Aren't you supposed to spend that on gifts?"

"I am."

"Gifts for _other people?"_

"Other people? You mean my family, don't you?" Draco snorted. "You _would_ think something like that."

"But it's almost Christmas! Who else are you going to spend it on?"

"Myself, I suppose."

"Yourself!? But that's so –"

"Ginny –" Draco's voice was measured and patient and it was more than enough to cut her off. 

He said her name. A giddy thrill rushed through her before she could tell herself it was stupid to make anything of it.

Still, she couldn't keep her face from flaming as she met his eyes. To his credit Draco seemed surprised to have spoken at all. He swallowed before continuing. 

"Can you honestly imagine my family hanging stockings? Trimming a tree? Making houses out of gingerbread?"

She could only mutely shake her head.

"We don't do Christmas – my father gives me a bag of Galleons every year so I can say I got something." He frowned at her and added, "It's no big deal," because he knew that to her it would be.

The words 'I'm sorry' froze on the tip of her tongue. He was probably too proud for her sympathy – and if she knew him, he would most likely mistake it for pity, anyway. 

If he said it was no big deal, then that was how he wanted her to act. 

"Well," Ginny grinned. "I guess it's a small wonder you're so ill-mannered."

"Coming from the girl who told her family I was a Potter-worshipper, that's not very offensive."  

"You're still mad about the Colin thing, aren't you?"

          "I'm surprised you picked up on that," he said dryly.

          "Oh, come on – _I don't think you're… um… not interested in the opposite sex –" _

"Because you know how highly I value your opinion." 

Ginny ignored him.

"– and Bill was the only other one there and he doesn't even know who you are, so what's to be mad about?"

"It's the principal of the matter."  

"In other words, you know I'm right and don't want to admit it."

"That's not it at all."        

Ginny just laughed. 

"Can I get you anything?"

She glanced up at Madame Rosmerta in surprise. She hadn't noticed the older woman approach. She was shocked again later when Draco offered to take care of the bill for their meal and couldn't decide which was stranger – the offer itself, or the fact that they were getting on rather famously.

It wasn't as if they hadn't gotten along before and she could decipher nothing different in their treatment of each other, but there was something… It was as if they were… more conscious of their situation and of each other – well, she was, at any rate. She liked being around him, and she knew it.

 She couldn't really speak for Draco, but he was still walking down the snowy streets of Hogsmeade by her side and that spoke volumes. 

They had left the Three Broomsticks on full stomachs and were now ambling down the road, window shopping and talking about everything and nothing at all. It was so frighteningly normal that Ginny had to bite the inside of her lip to make sure it was real.

"So that really was an accident?" she asked, her words frosting in the air.

"No – I _wanted_ to be mauled by the thing," Draco's voice oozed sarcasm. "Of course it was an accident! Bloody bird…"

"I always thought you'd insulted Buckbeak on purpose – you know, to get Hagrid fired…"

"Well, that too…"

"You're awful."

"Too right."

They had been walking for some time now, and Ginny decided that maybe she ought to pay a little more attention to their surroundings. She looked up and found they had just passed the shrieking shack. They'd gone farther than she'd thought.            

Now that they were on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, though, large, open expanses of untouched snow were becoming visible. She stopped to stare at one of them – the ground was pure, pristine white, dotted with glazed shrubs and trees, and it was calling to her in a way she could not resist.

Laughing, she ran out into the snow and knelt down to gather some in her gloved hands, packing it solidly together.

"What are you doing?"

Ginny looked from Draco to the ball of snow in her hand and back.

"I was going to make a snowman, but now I think I'd rather do this."

The snowball impacted against his chest in a spray of white. He stared at her in a shocked sort of silence for a moment.

"You're murder on my dignity, you know," he finally said, "look at that, it's bleeding all over the place. If you hit me one more time –" she did "– alright; you've killed it. Don't think you're going to get off easy."

He was already coming towards her as he said those last words, and it was all Ginny could do to give a little shout before she took off running. She ducked behind a tree and began fervently packing the snow in her hands. A snowball whizzed by and struck the ground in front of her – how close was he?

Ginny peaked around the trunk and was nearly caught in the face with a chunk of snow the size of a baseball. She sent her own ammunition out and missed by a mile. It continued on that way for some time, snowballs flying in every direction until both participants were panting and dusted from head to foot with white. 

Ginny backed as far as she could into the snow-bank, eyes trained on Draco as he came ever closer. His snowball flew off somewhere to her left and she outright laughed at him – the laughter came to an abrupt stop as he managed to hit her directly in the shoulder.

She held up two hands in desperation.

"Ah – truce, truce!" 

Draco shook his head. "Now, why would I agree to that? I've got you right where I want you…"

Ginny quickly decided she didn't much like the devilish gleam in his eyes. She made a break for it, running as far as she could to her right; as it turned out, that wasn't such a good idea. The deepening snow made it slow going and that allowed Draco the time he needed to catch up with her. 

She couldn't hold in a frightened yelp as he hefted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"W-what are you doing?" she asked, squirming as much as she could within his grasp. It was to no avail; his arm was like a vice. When he replied she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"I'm avenging my dignity."

That tone was one of the most fearsome things she had heard in her life. Twisting around so she could see where Draco was heading, her eyes widened.

"Oh, no – you're not gonna –" 

But he was.

Ginny 'eep'-ed as he dropped her in a snow-bank that must have been nearly as tall as she was. Any part of her than wasn't wet from the snowball fight was now as drenched as the rest of her. She was soaked to the bone and she had never been so cold in her life.

"Is your need for vengeance satisfied?" she asked dully, scowling up at him from the brand new Ginny-shaped crater in the snow.

"Yeah… yeah, I think that'll do."

"Good." She stuck her hand out. "Now I hope it isn't beneath you to help me up." 

"It is, but I'll do it anyway."

_Sucker! She crowed in her head as he grabbed her hand and she pulled him down into the snow with her._

Of course, all didn't go according to plan – as things rarely did – and Draco ended up more on top of her than in the snow, but still… she couldn't hold in a giggle. 

"I can't believe you fell for that," she laughed at his tragically resigned expression. 

"I really ought to learn to trust my instincts – I knew you were up to something…"

"Yeah, you… should…" Ginny trailed off, her voice dying beneath his stare and her own realization – their position was rather compromising… She felt her face heat up, but made no attempt to stop it. She was too engrossed in the fact that he was staring, not at her, but at her lips.

He was going to kiss her again. Her mind whirled – she really should do something to stop him only she wasn't sure if she really wanted to stop him and she really must look a mess – how could he possibly want to kiss her if she looked so horrid? – and she was only going to become cross with him again because this didn't really mean anything to him and it did to her, but this was the second time so maybe it meant something to him after all, only she couldn't be sure so – _Oh, what the hell…_

He leaned in just a little and she met him halfway.      

Let's just say they… melted snow for a while.

Ginny was grinning like an idiot and she knew it, but there was nothing she could do. They had walked back to the Three Broomsticks in a comfortable silence, neither willing to relinquish the good will between them with any sort of disagreement. 

The day had turned to late afternoon and Ginny knew she had to make it home before evening if she ever wanted to leave the house again, so they had gone directly to the fireplace and were now drying off in front of the flames. If she turned up soaking, her mother would have kittens.  

Well, eventually she had sat down to pull off her boots, and Draco followed suit – that's when she saw them and her face broke out into a smile.

"I don't believe it," was all she could think to say. It came out in an excited squeal no matter how hard she tried to produce a more becoming tone.

"Yeah, well… they're comfortable, okay?" 

He was wearing the socks. _The socks. And, if she wasn't mistaken, he was blushing._

Ginny had never wanted to hug anyone so much in her entire life, but she refrained, of course, for pride's sake. She was still unsure of him and he would probably be embarrassed by such a display of affection even if he did have some sort of romantic interest in her, the jerk.

She settled for inching closer to him and inspecting the smiling, knit animals as if unsure that they were real.

"And here I thought you hated them…"

"Where could _possibly_ have gotten that idea?" Even Neville, who was not known for his extreme perceptiveness, couldn't have missed the cynicism in that sentence.

"Well, you never thanked me properly," she sniffed, as if offended. 

"Yes, that must have been a devastating blow for you."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" she laughed, then added dryly, "Don't worry, I think I'll recover."

"Worry? About you? Never." He paused and then stood abruptly, tugging his boots back on. "I'm about dry now, I think," Draco told her as he prepared to leave via the fireplace.

She blinked in surprise. "You're going? Now?"

"That was the general idea, yes," he said, turning to look at her from where he stood before the hearth. She got up and came closer, nervously wringing her hands. 

"Wait – do you… I mean, are we…? I just… I wanted to know if… ah…" Ginny trailed off, blushing to the roots of her hair and looking anywhere but at the person she was speaking to. Draco seemed to understand.

"Twit," he muttered as he pulled her close enough to drop a kiss onto her head. The word could have been an endearment the way he said it… but that didn't change the fact that he had just insulted her.

She hmph-ed and crossed her arms beneath her breasts as soon as he pulled away, hoping the action would express her (semi-non-existent) anger. In actuality she was all bubbles inside; however, she was not about to let him know that.

"What? You don't like that pet name?"

Draco became the unlucky recipient of the patented Ginny Weasley Death Glare. "Pet name, my arse."

He only chuckled and she immediately decided she liked the sound.

"I'll have to think of a new one then… how about –"

"Don't even," Ginny countered flatly, eliciting a grin from her… _boyfriend…?_ She mused. The term didn't sound right when applied to Draco, but nothing else really came close to describing their… relationship.

"I ought to leave, you know," his voice called her back to reality.

"And so should I…" She was quite dry by now. "Goodbye, then, Draco."

"Goodbye… Weasel," was the last thing he said to her before he disappeared in a rush of green flames. She could still see his teasing grin when the fire had returned to a cheery orange-red.

It was this kind of thing that made her wonder what on earth she saw in him.    

"Prat," she mumbled allowed. It came out rather fondly in her ears.

Pushing thoughts of Draco from her mind, she stepped into the fire and headed back to the Burrow where the Christmas spirit was the only thing that saved her from the full brunt of Molly Weasley's wrath.

A/N: * puff is a term for a gay person, right?  Does everyone remember the socks from… chapter six, I think it was? Well, those are the ones Draco is wearing… sorry if that wasn't clear…I know this is a bit late… or at least I think it is… but I had insane writer's block – I've never experienced anything quite like it. For about two full days I would stare and stare at what I'd written so far and absolutely nothing came to me. Nothing – my mind just went completely blank! It was scary… then I watched Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and my inspiration mysteriously returned – I love that movie ^^! Ok, on to the reviews – again, skipping some one-liners:

Black_Dots: I'm speechless – you're too kind! You think the story is realistic _and_ funny?? Such high praise… haha… you're embarrassing me ^^! Hmm… I think the Draco/Ginny pairing is unrealistic too, but that's one of the things that appeals to me… putting them together is so unlikely that it makes sense in a strange sort of way… eh… did that make any sense? Oh… well… I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint you!

Bulma Greenleaf: Mmm… pineapple… so delicious… Hehe, that was my first real, conscious attempt at humor, so I'm glad it didn't fall flat… aw, you don't have to apologize for not reviewing – it shouldn't be an obligation… though, I confess, I did miss your input. Here I was, thinking you had lost interest in my story… 

Yami's Girl Forever: Sigh… Yami as in Yami-Yugi from Yu-Gi-Oh, right? Or am I way off? …Yup, I'm about a month away from 15 and I am a proud cartoon-addict! Whoooo!! I like anime/manga, though, better than a lot of American cartoons… but still, anything with at least semi-decent plot and animation can draw me in – anyway, about the chapter: I know the Colin thing was a bit of a stretch, but so many people make Colin gay, that I just couldn't resist… and Draco was following along more than anything – I think at this point there's very little he wouldn't do for Ginny, albeit grudgingly. Ah, well, I know you wanted to see what Bill's gonna do, but that'll have to wait for the next chapter – Ack! *hides behind Diana* Diana will save me from the Chainsaw of Death! …Eh… right? Ah!! She bit me! *runs around screaming in circles* …Looks like I'm gonna have to take a trip to obedience school… 

Socchan: I wouldn't be annoyed with you for not reviewing, so don't worry about it! And I'm _always_ insecure, so don't worry about that either… So, I can expect more updates soon, yes? Good – and I know just how you feel with that new fic idea… I'm going through the exact same thing… I need about ten more chapters on this story too before I start my new idea…speaking of which, can I send you the first chapter? You probably won't be able to get to it for a while, and that's fine because I can't post for a while anyway, but I want a second opinion on it – I've already got the rough draft typed up, so tell me if you've got time to take a look, okay? Thanks ^^!

Mandy8: Oy, you changed your name! Oh, well, there were too many mandy's anyway… Glad you thought it was funny – I've never tried to write anything remotely humorous before this, so I was pretty nervous about it!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!! Without you guys, I don't know what I would do!                   


	12. Holidays Unwrapped

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 12:

Holidays Unwrapped

          It was two days after Christmas when Bill finally came to talk to her.

          Ginny was in her room, leafing through the book she had received from Hermione and feeling generally miserable – her mother had been less than pleased with her, to say the least, and on top of that the ache had returned with a vengeance, making her weak, dizzy, and hardly able to sleep. That was more than enough to put a damper on her spirits, try as she might to ignore it all and focus on celebrating the holidays with her family.

          She hadn't complained of feeling ill to her mother, or anyone else for that matter, because she really didn't want to be doted on and because part of her still entertained the ludicrous hope that if she ignored it long enough, the illness (if that's what it was; she was beginning to have her doubts about it) would simply fade away. 

          It showed no signs of doing so, of course, but she continued to apply 'storm-tactics' to the situation – in other words, she would simply have to wait until the symptoms abated. _Lucky me…_

          All she could really do was try to continue on with life as usual – and at least there was one good thing about that. 'Life as usual' no longer included angsting over Draco. 

Yes, she could miss him all she wanted without having to justify her actions! All things considered, it wasn't too much of an improvement. 

"Hey, Gin."

She glanced up at Bill – her brother was a welcome distraction. She closed the book and tossed it on to her bed. _'The Magic of Good Study Skills' _didn't really interest her, anyway…

"Hullo," she answered, smiling as she made room on the bed for him to join her. He'd been a little… off since the trip to Diagon Alley, acting as if he wanted to say something and then hesitating at the last second. It was becoming a bother, and if he wanted to approach her now, she was all ears. "You don't have to stand in the doorway, you know. You have permission to enter."

Bill let out a short, nervous laugh and crossed the room to sit beside her on the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"That's an easy thing to forget with all your griping about never getting enough privacy," he said, clearly trying to conceal his apprehension with light banter. Ginny decided to play along, giving him a sisterly shove.

"I don't gripe," she pouted. "It's the truth."

"Ah, I see. It's not complaining if it's true."

"That's right."

"Does this incredible concept apply to everyone or just you?"

She made a show of pondering the question before finally answering with a flippant, "Just me," and a short nod.

His lips quirked just a little and he paused before forging on.

"Gin, I didn't really want to bring this up –" he pulled a face "– makes me feel old."

"You _are_ old," Ginny couldn't resist pointing out. She merely smiled when he eyed her shrewdly in response.  

"Yeah, yeah – just wait until you're my age…" Bill grumbled, though she could tell he really wasn't upset, just like she didn't really believe he was old.

"You'll be decrepit by then." 

"And you'll be married to that Draco fellow."

The smile froze on her face…

"W-_what!?_"

…But not for long.

"What are you talking about!?" she spluttered, incredulous. 

"That time, in the Leaky Cauldron – Percy told me that –"

"Wait," she stopped him. "Are you sure no one else is listening?"

It was a valid question. Extendable Ears were a common household appliance in the Burrow.

"The twins are playing Quidditch with Charlie and Ron in the back, Percy has already gone back to the ministry, Mum's in the kitchen, and Dad's busy sorting some new plugs into his collection," Bill told her factually, ticking off a family member for each finger. Ginny couldn't help but feel a little disappointment. 

"Alright, then, go on," she said dourly, though she'd really rather he didn't. "What'd Percy say?"

"Just that the boy who followed you through the fire wasn't Colin Creevey."

It was only very nearly that Ginny managed to stop herself from falling off the bed completely.

"Percy knows I was with him?!" she yelped, not caring if it was undignified. If Percy knew, he would probably send the authorities after Draco on charges of harassment – or maybe he wouldn't. Lucius Malfoy was, after all, fairly high up on the Ministry food chain.

Her fears were assuaged when Bill frowned, nonplussed. "What? Oh – No, Percy didn't see you at all. Just your boyfriend and he didn't seem to like him much."

Boyfriend. Ginny had to bite her tongue to keep from correcting him. That still sounded strange to her…

"I suppose Percy told you all about him…"

"Not really – Just said he was a git. But in this house that's the general impression of all the Malfoys and you know how it goes; don't judge a book by its cover and all that." He gave her a smile before his expression turned serious. "Look, Gin, I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into."

She barely contained a snort. "Don't worry. I know what I'm getting into, alright."

"Yeah, well, I'm your big brother, right? S'my job." 

She couldn't hold back a genuine smile as he slung an arm around her.

There was a moment's pause before she asked, "Bill?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that was really corny, right?"

"Yeah, I know." He stood up and shrugged, the box-spring mattress protesting loudly. "Couldn't help it."

Silence reigned once more as Bill moved to the window and Ginny just watched him, still seated and suddenly feeling that the world wasn't such a bad place after all. It was actually kind of a relief; after all, if Bill could handle it, there might just be hope for the rest of her family.

"Say, Gin, this guy – he's not as bad as everyone seems to think, is he?"

Ginny laughed outright. "No, not really… but I don't think many people would believe that – you won't say anything about this, will you?"

Her family's most likely negative interference would complicate, or maybe even prematurely kill, her fledgling relationship with Draco.

"Nah, but you ought to, eventually."    

"Oh, I will – just not now." She half-grinned. "Mum's already mad about my running off; I don't think she'd handle things very well."

"Probably not," Bill smiled in return and headed towards the door. "Well, I'm off – you've an owl, Gin."

That last was arbitrary enough to make her frown in confusion before it occurred to her to look out the window. There was indeed an owl tapping at the glass. It was a male owl, no larger than Pigwidgeon and had the most becoming black plumage. He was bristling in apparent impatience by the time Ginny crossed the room to let him in, dark feathers standing up to their fullest (though the effect was hardly threatening). 

Flinching at the rush of cold air, she held open the window and allowed her visitor to zip into the room, immediately settling himself into her pillow as if it were his own. If she didn't know better, she'd say the owl was glaring reproachfully at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling only a little ridiculous. "I wasn't expecting any mail."

The owl made a movement with its foot, indicating the package attached to it. The box was wrapped tidily in inconspicuous brown paper and appeared to be about the same size, if not large, as the bird that had brought it over. _How on earth did the little thing manage? She wondered as she untied the package and accompanying note from the owl's leg and set them on the bed._

She glanced at the seal, a bold and heavy dark-green wax molded into a serpent that encircled the letters _D.M._ written in a beautifully sinuous script. _It's from Draco…_Ginny didn't notice she had begun to smile until the paper was halfway off the box.

When the wrapping lay crumpled and discarded on the floor and the box sat naked on her lap she paused, fingers poised about the lid. It was a very ordinary sort of package, black and unassuming, made of run of the mill cardboard – the flimsy kind that was sleek on the outside. A gift, perhaps, for Christmas. 

The package she had sent him just that morning rose in her mind.

What could you get for the man who has everything? The very idea of the question had never been of relevance to her until now. 

Ultimately she had decided that if his family didn't celebrate her personal favorite holiday, he must not have a lot of happy memories involving the winter break. So, she had bought an empty snow-globe and charmed the image of their snowball fight into it. She had wrapped it in a pair of gloves, nearly identical to the ones he regularly wore on Saturdays, that she had charmed in the same fashion as his socks and told him he could wear them while they danced if he was so inclined.

Well, it had seemed adequate at the time, but now that she had actually sent it off and was staring what was presumably his gift in the face that niggling doubt at the back of her head had grown into a monster the size of her father's plug collection. In other words, it was gigantic.

Draco would undoubtedly show her up in the gift arena as he did in every other – with his abundant wealth, what else could she expect? Looking back on it, her own present seemed kind of lacking and that burned her. A sense of shame churned her stomach and she bit her lip.

Or maybe… maybe it wasn't a gift at all. Maybe Draco didn't like her at all and the whole thing was some sort of joke…

_That's stupid,_ the more sensible part of her piped up, _if he wanted to play a joke on you he wouldn't have gone through so much trouble._

That was probably true, she conceded, but that doubt still remained, paralyzing her hands where they hovered at the sides of the box. Ginny chewed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully, debating whether to quash her insecurities and just open the damn thing or… or… well, she didn't know what.

A sharp pain brought her back to reality and she gave a startled jerk. The owl had been nibbling her finger, she realized, staring down at the little thing where it had landed on the floor at her feet. Expressing as much ruffled dignity as an owl possibly could he flew back up to perch almost clumsily on her knee. 

An owl with an ego. How very… Draco.

She stroked his feathers apologetically.

"You startled me, you know," Ginny murmured to the bird whose eyes had drifted shut in ecstasy. He ignored her, more intent on the finger running repeatedly down his back. A cross between a giggle and a snort escaped her as she turned her attention back to the box in front of her.

She flipped off the lid before she could give her doubts time to manifest and had to clamp her jaws together to keep from laughing out loud. 

Pajamas – that was all. She had been foolish to worry. They were very nice too; the flannel drawstring slacks were an enchanting forest green and the shirt, sleeveless and in excellent taste, was a lighter version of the same color. Upon closer inspection the minute details of the gift came into view, leaving her absolutely certain they had been hand-sewn and very probably custom made.                 

          She picked up the note and slid her thumb beneath the seal. It wasn't addressed to anyone, but the owl had clearly been given specific directions to come to her. She scanned the first line and smiled.

          _'I could have done worse,'_ it said and Ginny couldn't agree more. 

          _'But that fact remains, I did not. Merry Christmas – or whatever formality is appropriate after the actual holiday has passed. The owl is yours, by the way.'_

          And that was all. She read the last line once more to be sure and glanced from the parchment to the owl and back. Clever – the owl could be a consolation if she found the first gift too intimate or suggesting something she wasn't ready for just yet. Had Draco not made so many caustic remarks about her current night dress she might have. However, it seemed a perfectly practical, thoughtful even, present to her…

          The owl nudged her arm and she glanced down at it. A fond smile wound its way onto her lips.

          "What to name you…" she cooed, lavishing attention on it once more.

          The owl was already lost to the warmth of her hands.

          If there was one thing Minerva McGonagall couldn't stand about being a member of the Hogwarts staff it was the faculty meetings. 

          She took a lengthy sip of her chamomile tea and settled back into her high-backed chair – one of the many that surrounded the long table in the center of the staff-room. This was going to be a long one.

          To be sure, not all such meetings could be described as less interesting than the legendary tedium of Mr. Binns's History of Magic course – on the contrary, some could be quite entertaining – but this wasn't turning out to be one of them. And understandably Minerva had other things she would rather be doing. It was, after all, winter break.

          As Professor Trelawney stood from her seat to address some mundane matter or another, Minerva was quite sure she would not be the only one wondering if this would be an opportune time to take an afternoon nap.

          It was rare enough for Sibyll to leave the tower that was her sanctum, much less attend something that involved the responsibilities that came with the teaching profession. Rarer still for her to contribute like this. So Minerva supposed it would be prudent to at least make an attempt at staying awake – though the chamomile tea wasn't helping. Resolutely, she set the cup back in its saucer and sat up a little straighter as Sibyll cleared her throat and began to speak.

          "As some of you are aware, I do in fact read the Fates when I am not weighed down by my responsibilities to my students," said Professor Trelawney, her voice deep and throaty in a stab at sounding mysterious. Minerva doubted very much whether anyone knew anything – or particularly cared to – about the personal doings of Sibyll Trelawney. 

          "As of late I have taken to letting the stars guide my path. On a clear night one can see destiny in the making – it was on such a night that I was able to discover the source of the shifts I have been sensing for some time.

          "We are all born under a star; the movements of that star control our destinies and it is Fate that controls the movements of the stars. Fate works in subtle ways, but I have seen a sign that cannot be mistaken. It is very rare for Fate to intervene so clearly; however, there have been accounts of similar occurrences, though extremely few and far between –"

           "And exactly what, Sibyll my dear," Albus broke in, though he managed to make even that sound polite, "would those occurrences be?"

          "Why, the aligning of two destinies! The intertwining of two fates! The crossing of two stars!"

          Minerva bit back a sigh as Sibyll began an overly enthusiastic explanation of whatever nonsense she had seen fit to bring to their attention. Albus, at least, seemed to be taking the eccentric and reclusive divination teacher seriously, but then, didn't he offer that courtesy to everyone? 

Perhaps a short nap wouldn't be such a bad thing after all…

Ginny bit back a yawn as she watched the little owl stretch his wings and make short circuits around the compartment ceiling. The poor thing had been forced to remain in hiding up until now, but it was only necessary. How on earth would she have explained a new owl – Lewellyn as she has taken to calling him – to her family?  

She had been lucky enough to find an empty cabin in the back of the Hogwarts Express – which would be leaving in just a moment if she wasn't mistaken – where she could let him out for a while. 

A yawn managed to make its way past her lips. Now, if she could only stay awake…

Her exhaustion was understandable, really. She'd been sleeping restlessly, if at all, for the last quarter of her winter break and all that lost shut-eye had apparently decided to catch up with her now. At least she wasn't feeling so sick anymore; that was something.

Suddenly the door slid open and Ginny tensed, startled, then relaxed. It was only Draco.

"Hm. Figured you'd end up in the last car," he said, tossing his bags inside haphazardly. Lewellyn gave an excited sort of hoot and dropped from the air to make a nest of Draco's hair. Draco made as if to brush him off and muttered, "Gah – damn bird. This is why I got rid of you."

    Ginny decided not to comment on that one. "You were looking for me?" she asked brightly as Lewellyn took the hint and made himself comfortable atop a pile of luggage instead.

"Not particularly."

She had to smile because she knew that was as close to a yes as he would ever give her. The train lurched to life just then and the moving scenery captured her attention. It rushed past in blurs of green and brown, so fast that her eyes could hardly take in any of it.

"Are you tired?"

Ginny glanced up. "I guess so – why?"

Actually she had noticed a marked increase in her exhaustion level in the last few moments. 

"It's just that you've yawned at least ten times in the last minute – I'm getting tired of staring down your throat."

"Sorry," she mumbled, too sleepy to retort, then yawned again as she stretched her legs out across the seat. 

 "Go to sleep."

A short time later she did. Draco was quick to follow her.

A/N: Ugh – sorry for the lateness. I had 3 pages done, but then the second two made me sick so I scrapped them and re-did the chapter from there. That set me back a bit, but after that my computer was being mean (it still is) eh… so, my apologies. I doubt you'll have to wait this long again.

Queen of Night: Hehe… I'd be surprised that you were addicted to my story period ^^!

Miaka Summers: Gasp! Someone appreciates my sense of humor! Heh – I'm pleasantly shocked.

NightLight4: Yeah, I think you could say the have a relationship… erm… when you say 'Draco is so…' do you mean a good thing or a bad thing?? It worried me when you trailed off there ¬.¬ … *sighs* I hope your not disappointed with the Bill thing – I think Bill is way too cool to over-react so it seemed sorta anti-climactic to me… Gah – sorry for making you wait so long!

Dudet: Haha… my ears are burning… I just had to say that -.-;; Thanks so much!!

Socchan: Agh! I know what you mean!! If I wasn't obligated to finish this, I would be enthusiastically slaving away over an IY fic this very minute! …Eh… well, maybe… I dunno, the summer is making me lazy. But anyway, I sent you the chapter; however, I think I may not write that fic after all. For one thing I discovered 'Starbreak' which is a much better werewolf fic than mine would have been and for another I would have to do research – Gasp!! How'd you find out about my birthday??? I usually don't tell my friends when my birthday is coming so they won't do anything for me… Yeah, I'm strange….Oh well. Write something if you must, but if you do you'd better tell me when your birthday is – who knows, it may be the incentive I need to write a complete one-shot…

Yami's Girl Forever: I'm not too much of Yu-Gi-Oh! fan, but I do know my stuff! Ah! So many compliments!! Help me, I'm melting! I'm melting! – oh, wait… no, I'm not… hm. I did have that nice tingly feeling, though… Um, I'm almost afraid to ask, but what'd you think of Bill in this chapter? I think it was a little anti-climactic, but Bill is too cool to get mad, you know?? Oh, you don't. Well, you learn something new every day – for instance before this I didn't know you could describe a tiger as cuddly… ehehe… *clutches first aid kit*…

Rachel: It _does_!? I had no idea… well, too late. Sorry for being inaccurate. Research + me = …um… well… I was never any good at math. My apologies.

Forestfire: It's not that he knows more than he lets on, it's that he's just… so… well, Bill ^^, need I say more? You're absolutely right, you gotta love Bill! Hehe… glad you liked the socks…

Emily22: Aw, no need to thank me for the story! I'm the one who should thank _you for reviewing. I felt all warm and fuzzy inside when I read your review… ^^_

Bulma Greenleaf: Eh? Cheese-cookie?? I think my dog eats those… oh well. *eats cookie* Mmm… cheese… Oh – what? I'll never escape your reviews?? Damn! – er… I mean… uh… *points* look a stampede! Run for your life!

xXxmandyxXx: It is happening, but not for long… muahaha… Draco doesn't slick back his hair in the PoA movie?!? …Must… see… urgh. Don't talk to me about summer reading. I'm having nightmares over the guilt of not working on it as much as I should. Seriously. It's interfering with my sleep.

Black_Dots: Eheh… Ok, are you disappointed this time?? Gah – I hope not – anyway, D/G won't be getting all mushy – that's just not them… so, don't expect confessions of undying love anytime soon… Major Global Warming? *sighs* I don't think so – I want to keep their relationship relatively innocent… and besides, they act too childish, in my opinion, to go too far in that direction. Ha – I don't think I could if I tried – romance scenes tend to be my least favorite when it comes to the writing ^^; … Well, at any rate, I guess you can't say I update very quickly anymore… 2 out of 3 isn't bad, right??


	13. Sleepless

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Chapter 13:

Sleepless

          The canopy was probably very old. It might even have been in the fifth year girls' dorm since Hogwarts first began, but it showed no signs of aging, none of the wear and tear that the years brought on. Ginny couldn't figure it out. Luckily she had plenty of time to contemplate it. 

          What else was there to do in the middle of the night?

          _Not a hell of a lot_, Ginny knew from experience. In the dark, she made a face up at the Gryffindor-red cloth that barred her view of the ceiling. 

          She had never been said to be a light sleeper – she wasn't as bad as Ron, surely, but she definitely wasn't adverse to copious amounts of slumber. She still wasn't. Only… any amount of slumber at all was becoming increasingly harder to come by. 

          The first week back at Hogwarts she had slept like a rock every night, by the end of the second one she was tossing and turning, and now, in the middle of the third she was just… well… she was beyond counting sheep. She stared harder at the canopy, hoping to be able to make out the stitches in the dark so she could count those instead.

          After a moment or two she gave up, labeling the cause as hopeless.

          The next morning was going to be hell, she decided. Mornings had never been her strong suit, but now… they were the devil incarnate. And her daily classes were the genuine article. Except for History of Magic because Binns didn't care if she slept through it.  

          Ginny pushed the thought of the next day's double Potions out of her mind.

The dorm was eerily silent; the castle was always quiet at night, as if it were sleeping itself, and thick bed-curtains on all sides blocked the gentle breathing of her fellow fifth years. A few of the girls snored sometimes – guessing who the snores belonged to had proved an adequate amusement. And that was just plain sad.

          She rolled over to lie on her stomach and groaned into her pillow. She didn't even know what time it was; just that it was late and the only one not sleeping was her. Sure, Ginny was all for being her own person, but at the moment she would really love to hop on the bandwagon – only she couldn't. It just didn't work anymore, no matter how long she closed her eyes and lied there. 

She buried her face into the goose-down pillow, then shot straight up and nearly shrieked when something brushed her shoulder. A shaky breath escaped her lips. It was only Lewellyn. She should have known – the bird refused to stay in the owlery no matter how many times she sent him back there. 

But for the life of her she couldn't figure out how he got through the portrait hole. After much deliberation on the subject (because boy did she have the time) she had chalked it up as one of life's great mysteries.

 However he had managed it, the owl now sat on her bed, looking up at her with round, dewy eyes. He cocked his head at her as if in question, but remained silent as if he was aware of the room's sleeping occupants. Well, maybe he was, though she had never known owls to be particularly courteous creatures. 

Ginny offered him a hand and he hobbled onto it, nestling into her palm even though he was just shy of being too large to fit. Out of sheer boredom she watched him preen his feathers through half-lidded eyes.

Sleep wasn't even in her vocabulary any more, she was bored out of her mind, and there was no one to talk to. She supposed she could go visit Dobby in the kitchens, but she had done that the last few nights… Her uninterested gaze at Lewellyn turned speculative. 

There was one person she had no qualms about waking.

"Time to make yourself useful," she told the bird, sotto voce. For an animal he was remarkably easy to talk to – or maybe it was because he _was_ an animal… With a little mental shrug, Ginny swung her legs over the side of the bed and began to rummage through the book-bag she had tossed on the floor for a scrap of parchment and quill.

She held the sought after objects up triumphantly and proceeded to scribble a note. It was rather hard to do in the dark, but she thought she managed a credible stab at legibility. 

"Think you can find Draco?" she asked. He seemed to perk up at the prospect and she took that for a yes. She handed him the note, because she had no string on her, and sent him off, thinking to herself as she dug through her trunk for a robe and a pair of socks: _When all else fails, go bug Draco…_

Draco picked up the poker and thrust it into the fire, churning the ashes and shifting the burnt timbre so the flames danced higher. He had never before been as thankful for his room as he was now that sleep had decided to gracefully elude him. The room was small, and not only by his standards, but at least he didn't have to worry about waking anyone with his sleeplessness. 

He had always been a light sleeper, but this was getting ridiculous.

Draco buried his head in his hands and sighed, starting when he felt something ruffle his hair. He snapped upwards and the thing careened into his line of vision. Oh. It was just that ruddy owl…

He blinked. Then scowled. "How the bloody hell'd you get in here?" he asked, though he didn't really expect any sort of answer. It was just reflex.

Lazily Draco shooed the bird away with his hand – it squawked in an un-owl-like manner and dropped a scrap of parchment on the rug by the fire. _Damn thing can't even deliver a letter right, he grumbled mentally as he bent to pick it up. The owl had made itself at home in Draco's pillow. _

He grimaced – Ginny probably adored all the thing's stupid habits. Hell, he knew she did. The indulgence shone in her eyes whenever she was around that bird. If he had known how much time she would spend doting on it, he wouldn't have – _Time she could be spending doting on you? A treacherous voice in his mind spoke up._

His brows drew together in a frown. He was not jealous of an owl. He was _not. _

He decided it would be wise to read the note rather than continue with this thought pattern. The parchment unfurled in his hands and he scanned the few short lines quickly, unconsciously arching a brow.

_'Couldn't sleep._ Meet me by the library?__

_                                       – G' _

A derisive snort escaped him. So, she just expected him to get up and follow her orders, did she? Suppose he had been asleep – which… was just what she must have done, he realized. He had never said anything to indicate his lack of sleep. His brow furrowed; at least he didn't think so…

          It didn't really bother him. He didn't mind going to see her; he had nothing better to do. He didn't mind the fact that she expected him to follow her directions either. What he _did _mind was the fact that he was slipping out the door that very minute. Damn. How did she do it?

          Draco had never been one to follow orders – especially since the arrest of his father a year or so back – so how was it that this girl, who was so utterly beneath him, could wrap him around her finger so seamlessly? And why wasn't he going out of his way to change that?

          There was undeniably something about her….

          _Now she's got me spewing this idealistic rubbish_, he thought, trying to work himself into a rage. He didn't do a very good job._ What'll be next? _

          He scowled as he strode down the hall. If anyone caught him he could just flash his Prefect badge; with a good enough story, no one would call him on it. 

           It wasn't as if he didn't like Ginny, because he rather did. A lot. She was the type of person one couldn't help but like. Only, he was afraid that if things kept on this way he would be catering her every beck and call before winter's end – Actually, he already was. 

But none of that seemed to matter when he was with her.

He rounded a corner, and there she was. She sat on the floor, her back to him, the red of her hair leaping out at him against the darkness of her robe. Draco smirked as he came up behind her.

"Boo."

She jumped and whirled around, then sagged with relief… which quickly turned to anger.

"What are you doing, scaring me like that?" Ginny hissed, standing up to whap him on the shoulder. Violent girl, this one.

"Did that really scare you?" he asked flatly, raising a brow for effect. 

Even in the dark he could see her embarrassed flush. "Well, you could have been Filch or something…" she said by way of explanation, though he really didn't require one. He just liked to make her blush.

"So, what do you require of me?"

"Your badge," she told him, not missing a beat.

"Oh, I see," said Draco as they fell into step together, walking aimlessly down the hall. "You're just using me for my power."

"Rats, I've been found out," she replied without feeling, pausing to ask abruptly, "did I wake you?"

He thought about lying to her and decided against it. "No."

"Oh, good –" Ginny started, than frowned "– and what were you up to at this hour?"

"I was playing strip poker with the rest of my house-mates, what else?"

"Hm. Of course."

"I couldn't sleep, is all."

Her brows rose up. "You too? I was wide awake all night –" she paused to suppress a yawn "– but now I'm getting tired."

Draco felt his own eyelids become heavy as she finished the sentence. He bit back a yawn of his own in time to reply.

"Must be my soothing presence."

"Or maybe your just boring me," she snorted.

"Am I? I guess I ought to leave, then. "

"No, I – hey, what's this?"

They had come a ways from their starting place near the library. Draco wasn't even entirely sure where they were anymore – this section of hall didn't look particularly familiar. He glanced at their shadowed surroundings. Well, he could probably find his way back to where they came from, but he was quite certain he had never been here before. Or if he had, then the bench hadn't.

Yes, that's right, the bench.

It sat nestled in a stone alcove, wreathed in shadows and looking oddly inviting to his sleep-deprived eyes. If he sat down, he would probably be asleep within minutes… but it wouldn't hurt to rest for just a bit… 

"It's an ogre," he said to Ginny, as he took a seat, leaning back against the stone wall. "What does it look like?"

She sat down beside him huffily and folded her arms, but he knew she wasn't really offended. It was fairly obvious what with her leaning her head on his shoulder and all.

"Draco? Um… we're not going to tell anyone about…uh… this… for a while, right?"   

He glanced down to see that she was looking up at him shyly through her lashes. It was probably a good thing she had decided to bring it up – the matter had occurred to him, but he had decided against voicing his thoughts on the grounds that Ginny might get the wrong idea. She talked big sometimes, but he knew her well enough to know that she had her fair share of insecurities. 

"I should think not," he snorted. "I value my life, thanks."

"Oh – are you scared of my brothers?" she asked, all innocent goggle-eyed incredulousness. He frowned at his shoes.

"Only the ones that send me threatening letters…" he muttered, thinking back to the one sitting on his desk, which really hadn't been all that frightening. Draco felt her tense beside him.

"What? Did one of them really…? Oh – it was Bill, wasn't it?"

"Yes, I believe it was."

"I don't believe him! What did he say?" she asked urgently, her brows pushed together in a frown.

"Nothing too… worrisome," said Draco, and she relaxed again. She must have been quite tired, then. Normally, he was sure, she'd be off searching for her wayward brother and making plans to set him straight the instant she'd been informed. Well, it wasn't as if he needed – or particularly wanted – her to do that anyway. He could defend himself, thank you very much. But her lack of effort was strangely disappointing.

He sighed into the darkness, letting the silence stretch and not daring to blink because he was sure if he closed his eyes he wouldn't be able to open them again. For a stone bench the seat was awfully comfortable… maybe he could just…

A soft snort brought him out of those thoughts fast enough. His eyes fell on Ginny and he realized it was she that had made that noise – in her sleep. She suddenly grew heavy on his arm, her weight shifting so that he had to hold onto her to keep her from falling into his lap. 

"Hey – wake up."

She didn't.

Draco shook her slightly. "Come on, get up."

Nothing.

"Ginny…?" 

Still nothing. 

Sighing, he scooped her up, reluctant to wake her if she was so far under. _Damn…he cursed mentally. What was he supposed to do now? Well, he couldn't just stand in the hallway all night, that was for sure. He fought back a yawn and began to walk down the hall._

He couldn't take her back to her common room – he didn't know the password or exactly where it was. He couldn't just leave her in the hall – she would probably do him severe bodily harm if he did. He couldn't just walk around debating all night – he was falling asleep on his feet.

He _could just wake her up, but… his eyes darted to her sleeping face. No._

So, there was one place to go. And he was there already.

Draco blinked at the entrance to his common room, concealed behind a painting of a little boy in a blue sailor's hat. Certainly no one would ever guess its location, but sometimes he wished they could have something as glaringly obvious as the likeness of Salazar Slytherin or at least something a little more intimidating to stand in front of their door. 

He muttered the password and slipped in, escaping to his room without being seen. It was hardly a great feat. There was no one there to see him.

Draco swept into the room and sank into a chair. Ginny wasn't heavy by a long-shot, but it wasn't easy to carry her all around the castle. He watched her absently for a moment, and was about to get up to deposit her on the bed before selflessly taking a spot in the cushy armchair by the fire when she began to stir. _Now she wakes up. How convenient._

She opened her eyes and stared at him for what seemed to be a long while. 

"Oh. I fell asleep."

Draco just arched a brow. "I hadn't noticed."         

"I think I'm going to do it again," she yawned and curled into a ball on his lap. "So – until then, tell me a story."

There was a short pause while Draco tried to find his voice.

"You're kidding," he finally managed.

"Mm-hm," he heard her murmur into his chest. She probably didn't know what she was saying, he decided.

Wordlessly he picked her up once more and dropped her onto the bed, not bothering to remove the covers beforehand. It was a measure of just how far under she was that she didn't protest. He was about to turn away when she yanked the back of his robes.  

"Stay with me."

Beneath her gaze and the weight of his own exhaustion he could do nothing else. 

A/N: Ergh… so… fluffy… Eh – anyway, I meant to post this sooner, but… well, things happened. You have my deepest apologies. School is starting soon, so I have to finish up my summer reading and do the whole back to school shopping thing… yeah. Ok, big, huge, enormous thanks to everyone who reviewed!! I can't answer them all because it takes me an incredibly long amount of time, so sorry if I miss yours!   

Souten: Ah! It's your favorite?? hehe… AND you like the way they're characterized?? *grins uncontrollably* Wow – it's a dream come true! 

xXxmandyxXx: …cheese?? Um… I'm gonna have to disagree. Cheese is bad… Anyway, it's ok – the ff.net e-mail account thingie is screwed up. I got less than half of my reviews by e-mail… then I was really shocked to see how many more I had when I checked them on ff.net!! hehe… glad you like the owl ^^

Fulldark: Eh? Exiles books?? I think I'm about to sound really ignorant here, but I've never heard of that… I found the name on one of those naming websites ^^; 

Yami's Girl Forever: I've had bad experiences with cats *shivers*… Hm – you like Charlie better? Well, for me it's a toss up between them. They're both too cool for me to pick a favorite! But I think if it had been Charlie instead he would have reacted pretty much the same… Haha – don't worry about lack of description! You've given me so many compliments already… Sorry for the lateness, btw. I meant to have it up a couple days ago… things aren't working out for me lately… but I do know what you mean about weird obse – *blinks* did someone say Evangelion? Where?! ... Oh… just my imagination…

Debbie: *gasps* I have _typos_?! No!! …Ergh… I try so hard to escape them, but… some always slip by!! Typos are a dangerous nemesis…. Well, anyway, there is some Harry in the next chapter!! Rejoice! Truthfully, I have a hard time writing him because I can't really grasp his character… one minute he seems so kind and selfless, and the next he's brooding over not getting picked as prefect – but I still love him ^^!! 

Rose-Kaiba: Eh… well, it's hard to say when I update – usually about every week… I admit it, I write _slooowwly_,_ the words pour out of me like molasses -.-;; it's a curse. But I try!! _

Black_Dots: Well, I guess updating quickly is gonna have to wait until the next time – *cowers* sorry… I am ashamed U.U… Gasp! You figured out my (not-so-evil) plot!! Replying to reviews so people will review again (but also because I just like to do it)! Though, it doesn't always work *glances reproachfully at reviewers who don't reply*… Eh… anyway, it's good that you feel loved and appreciated because you are!! Reviews are like an oasis in a desert of words… ¬.¬ ok, that was a little corny, but still… Hm? Rambling? I don't mind one bit ^^! Go on as long as you want to – long reviews are the best kind!! *long pause* …Oh. That's not what you meant? Well, what can I say – I have a corrupted mind *evil laugh* but yeah, it would sorta ruin the story, I think… though not the innocent, obligatory-fluff-scene thing you see in this chapter, right? 

Emily22: Yeah, that _is_ the cause of the 'illness' thing, but about the room thing…*stares blankly at Emily22* …0.o how did you guess?? Ah, well, don't tell anyone ^_~!

Socchan: It _was_!? Wow… I forgot about that… haha ^^;… well, I actually have another idea now that I'm thinking about… I might come back to this one later, though… I don't know right now – Gah. Too many ideas .!! But anyway, my birthday is *drum-roll*… September 4th! And, yeah, I'm gonna get to work on something for you straight away because if I don't it will never get done. Ever. So, anything in particular that you want? If not, it's gonna be an Evangelion short full of Asuka/Shinji fluff – so be forewarned.  

Bulma Greenleaf: Ahh!! Dragons! *douses singed hair* Yeesh, if it's not one thing, it's another… Oh, well, at least it wasn't a stampede of dragons… 0.o. Um… so, I didn't continue very very very very very very very very very soon – or even just very soon. But I did continue! And I will keep doing so!! Hehe… good dragons… nice dragons… @.@


	14. Morning After

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Chapter 14:

Morning After

          Ginny woke up slowly, the way one does from a particularly restful sleep or on a morning when the promise of complete leisure hangs heavily in the air. Awareness seeped into her little by little and she lied there for long moments in a sense of utter contentment, not daring to open her eyes or even to move lest that feeling fade. She hadn't slept in ages, it seemed, and she wasn't willing to let the sensation go just yet.

          It was a rare, blissful sort of peace – something she didn't experience often in a house full of siblings and a room full of fifth years. She hadn't gotten enough sleep, of course, to make up for all that she'd missed and she would be exhausted later as she had been since her first restless night, but for now she was feeling pleasantly energized.

          Even before her bout of insomnia, Ginny couldn't remember ever sleeping so well. Though, she had woken once – the fire had been left to burn, and with all the windows shut the room had become overly stuffy. She had only stayed awake long enough to peel off her robe and marvel briefly at how spectacularly the moonlight shone on Draco's hair – _Draco!? _

Her eyelids snapped up faster than the wings of a golden snitch and she was suddenly aware of a quiet laughter sounding behind her.

Swiftly propping herself up on her elbows, she turned to find Draco sitting up and… and _laughing._ Draco. Laughing. Ginny was beginning to wonder if she wasn't still sleeping. 

_What's so funny?_ She followed his line of vision. He was looking at her, just… well, not at her face. She glanced down at herself, cheeks burning. Of course – green pajamas.

She was suddenly more embarrassed about her state of dress, than waking up in his bed and only vaguely remembering how she had gotten there, but knowing with utmost certainty that she had somehow humiliated herself. All she could think to do now was find something to hide under….

Where had she left her robes? Her eyes alighted on a crumpled pile of black amidst the green of the floor rug, and she went for it. Or, rather, she would have, if Draco hadn't second-guessed her and grabbed her around the waist to pull her back towards him just to spite her. 

She couldn't hold in a squeak as a mad scramble for the article of clothing began. Draco was the victor. He stood with the robe held triumphantly in his arms, the bed like a barrier between them.   

          Ginny narrowed her eyes, though really she wasn't very angry. "Draco – you give that back!"

          One side of his mouth drew upwards as he shook his head. "I don't think I will."

          "I can't walk around all day like this," she told him, holding out her arms to indicate her clothing.

          "Not even for me?"

          "You're ridiculous." She folded her arms as if to somehow prove her point. 

          He just shrugged noncommittally and pulled his wand out, seemingly from nowhere. A spell poured from his lips, though not one she recognized, and the tip of his wand tapped the black fabric of her robe. It didn't occur to her to try and stop him until he was finished and a pair of dark penny-loafers dangled from his hands. 

          Quite by accident just then, Ginny's mouth fell open. Without her wand, she couldn't turn them back… 

          "You did not just do that," was all she could think to say. Inwardly, Ginny winced. She was just inviting sarcasm with that one.

          Draco's expression turned bemused. "Well, that was inane." He could have done much worse…. "But, hey, if you decide to stomp my feet with these, you probably won't send me to the hospital wing."

          She stared at him in utter silence for a drawn out moment before snorting into her hand. The sound quickly became full-out laughter, and she drew closer to him as she pressed her palm harder over her mouth in vain.

          "You're still sore about that!" she giggled, taking the loafers from his hands and unaware of why that was so amusing. "I'd almost forgotten!"

          "Yeah, well, you weren't the one limping up several flights of stairs," he said, giving her a half-lidded stare. 

          "That's true… well alright, I won't step on your feet anymore. Now, change them back."

          "I don't feel like it."

          Ginny frowned at him. "I can't walk back to the common room in my nighties!"  

          "They'll turn back, you know," said Draco, rather pointedly.

          "I can't wait around all –" she paused in mid-sentence as a more pressing matter occurred to her "– Merlin! What time is it?" Ginny's eyes flew to the window. It was light out. Too light. 

          The realization that it might not be early morning seemed to stop Draco in his tracks as swiftly as it did Ginny. He blinked at the question, and then darted over to his desk. She watched him pull a pocket-watch out of the drawer. His eyes widened and she heard him curse under his breath – not a good sign.

          "Well?"

          "It's almost one," he said, "Lunch will be over in… roughly twenty minutes."

          "You're kidding."

          "Of course. I enjoy lying to people about ridiculous things."

          Ginny leveled her gaze at him and then, deciding it wasn't worth it to comment on his remark, held up the loafers. "Change them back."

          She wasn't sure what she had been expecting when she said that, but she wasn't overly surprised when Draco merely glanced from her face to the slippers and back and said, "No," like a petulant child.

          She groaned, wondering if all hope was lost when she spied the bureau on one side of the room and found that it wasn't. If she couldn't have her own robes…

          Ginny picked one up from where a multitude of identical black school robes sat folded on a shelf, all with the Slytherin house symbol proudly attached on the left breast. She slipped it on, acutely aware of the scent of Cyprus and blackberries – something she had come to associate with Draco, though she'd never seen him around anything of the sort. 

          "Would you like a matching scarf while you're at it?" Draco asked from somewhere behind her. He sounded genuine, but she knew he was being sardonic.

          "No, thank you," she replied. When she turned around he looked her up and down appraisingly. Her cheeks heated for no reason that she could think of.

          "You could almost pass for a Slytherin like that."

          She gave him a shy little smile. He was only teasing her, but his eyes were so… warm when he said that.

          "Oh, highest of praises." Ginny dropped the loafers onto the floor and slid her socked feet into them. She had neglected to put on any shoes when she left her dorm last night, so at least carting her former robes around wouldn't be a problem. She cinched Draco's robes tighter around her frame to hide the distinguishing features of her pajamas. "Alright then, go see if there's anyone in your common room."

          His eyes rolled up to the ceiling, but he slipped out the door without comment and returned a moment later, holding it open for her.

"No one's there; now get out of here – I've got to dress too, you know."

It was only then that she appreciated the fact that he was wearing only a black t-shirt and loose sweatpants beneath that robe. Draco had pajamas. Who knew?

"I love you too, dear," she deadpanned in response to his rush to be rid of her presence. 

Draco just grinned at her. Well, alright, that wasn't all he did…

After a few moments Ginny was out the door, looking only a bit rumpled and heading down the hall in a state of heady pleasure. She licked the taste of him from her lips and sped up, smiling absently. 

At the moment Harry was fairly annoyed with Ron and Hermione. Usually they left him out of their bickering; he didn't want any part of it and as long as they didn't make him choose sides and made up with each other eventually, they could have their own civil war if they wanted. 

He didn't _like_ to see them fight, certainly, but after six years of close friendship, he had accepted their squabbling as a way of life. As long as they were all still best mates in the end, he was alright with it. And if that was a little selfish, then so be it.

This time, however, they were bloody attacking each other and he was getting caught in the crossfire. Not pleasant. 

_Can't they just get along?!_ Harry paused to blink when he realized how much that sounded like something out of a Mr. Rogers program.

Well, they were fighting again, at any rate, and he didn't want to be around either one of them at the moment so here he was. Alone in the common room at lunch, working his way through the manual that came with his broom-servicing kit. Kind of sad, sure, but he was feeling unsocial in general. Whether or not that was a result of Ron and Hermione's verbal fight-to-the-death match was difficult to tell.

From outside he heard someone blurt out the password and he looked up as the portrait swung open and Ginny stepped in, looking a little the worse for wear. When she spotted him she stopped and stared in the very same way he had seen a deer do once on some nature program right before it got rammed by a car… well, okay, maybe it hadn't been a nature program, but he had still seen it.

"H-Harry! Hi!" she smiled, folding her arms over her breasts a little too quickly for it to have been natural.

She was obviously up to something… she looked somewhat embarrassed actually. Well, whatever it was it was probably nothing dangerous. Ginny was the last person he would suspect to be involved in anything… untoward.   

"Hey, Ginny," he tossed out casually. 

"What are you doing here?"

Harry smiled and made a sweeping gesture towards the Firebolt across his lap. "Just tuning it up."

"Oh… well, I'd best be going – I left some books in the dorm… See ya, Harry!"

And she was gone. He frowned after her for a moment. 

Was that a Slytherin badge he'd seen…?

_Nah…_Harry shook his head and was about to turn back to his previous occupation when the clock chimed suddenly. He glanced at it and began to put away his work with speed. How had it become so late without his noticing? Lunch was over – if he didn't get going now, he'd be late to Transfiguration. 

Just as he was at the door, Harry spared a glance towards the girls' dorms. Well, Ginny was probably aware of the time anyway, and he couldn't even get in the dorm to tell her if he wanted… He shrugged and was out the door.

It was a Wednesday; the middle of the week and but a period after lunch. It was a time when students ought to be rambunctious and energized from their forty minute freedom. But one student was not, quite the opposite, actually.

Minerva couldn't help but glance towards Ginny Weasley as she strolled down the rows of desks, looking over the student as they worked. Her flaming hair was looking a bit unkempt, her uniform a little wrinkled, her pale skin accentuated by the dark smudges beneath her eyes. The poor dear looked as if she might drop out of her seat any second. Was she ill, perhaps?

Minerva shook her head. That couldn't be it. Most students would be begging sick leave if they had even a cold… A snippet of conversation rose in her mind and Professor Trelawney's voice spoke in her ear.   

_"…sleeplessness and resulting fatigue are all observable symptoms of this blessing – of course that is only if the two are not in the vicinity of one another…"_

No. That couldn't be it. Yes, Albus had told the staff to keep a closer eye on the students in case they exhibited any of the signs, but… Well, she wasn't about to believe such ridiculousness! Sibyll couldn't even tell where this 'star-crossed' pair supposedly lived, much less who they were. All she could say was that the two were young wizards. And since there was really nothing they could do even if they did know who it was the staff had merely been put on alert in case the two in fact did exist, and did attend Hogwarts. All they could really do for the pair was inform them of the situation, make them more comfortable, etc.   

It all seemed like a load of hog-wash to her. Still… if _Albus believed it…_

Minerva paused. She had come to Ginny Weasley's seat. The girl was having trouble turning a lizard into a cushion – and that should have been a third year spell! Normally Ginny was adept at nearly all transfigurations, but if she could hardly even complete the review for her O.W.L.'s then something had to be wrong.

After a few more tries the lizard became a downy green throw pillow, while the girl looked perhaps a little less green herself, though still apparently exhausted. Minerva watched as Ginny planted her face in the cushion and closed her eyes, seemingly unaware of her Professor's presence. 

Minerva was about to inquire after her student's health when the door to her classroom swung open and Draco Malfoy strode into the room as if he owned the place – not that that was saying anything. He always had that superior sort of air about him and though teacher really weren't supposed to form biased opinions about their students his arrogant gait tended to make her think a bit lower of him. 

Not that she thought particularly highly of him in the first place… He was a rule-breaker, a rude character in general, and a Slytherin to boot – he was also currently holding out a piece of paper, clearly expecting her to take it.

Minerva took the note soundlessly and read it over, then frowned. 

Apparently Ginny had been late to Potions… as well as missing all of her morning classes. Perhaps she was ill after all. And she now had a detention for it – which Severus had decided to hand off to her on the claim that he was too busy. She barely refrained from snorting out loud. As if she wasn't. 

But she would take it anyway. She didn't have it in her to leave one of her Gryffindors at the mercy of their dreaded potions master. She spelled her answer onto the paper, the lettering pouring from her wand into an elegant script.       

Minerva nodded curtly to herself as she folded the note and waited for Draco to retrieve it from her outstretched hand… and waited, and waited, and waited…

"Mr. Malfoy?"

He glanced up quickly from where his attention had previously been directed – which happened to be in Ginny Weasley's general direction, but he had no reason to look at her so Minerva dismissed it – and snatched the paper from her hand as if to make up for lost time. 

"Yes?" He sounded rather weary, and now that she had a closer view of him, he looked it too. Perhaps something was going around?

"Take this back to your classroom please."

Draco just nodded, yawning as he left the room. At the same time she heard Ginny – who had sat up at some point during the visit – muffle another behind her hands. 

Minerva couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. 

Ginny was serving detention with her tonight. If she noticed any further oddities, Minerva decided, she would alert the headmaster…

But not because she believed in any of Trelawney's rubbish. She was simply concerned for her student. It was probably nothing more than a passing illness.

A/N: Just to be clear: I HATE this chapter!! Ok… moving on…I KNOW this was incredibly, unforgiveably late, but… please don't hate me!! Agh… I think I'm just going to stop apologizing for my late chapters because… they're always late somehow. And school started a few days ago…. Yeah, on to the reviews – of which I'm not answering very many (I'm sorry! No time!):

Black_Dots: Huh… I didn't know that about the w's… anyway, I read your review and… I just have one thing to say; so… much… praise!!! I felt so warm and fuzzy inside… but it made me really nervous about this chapter… I don't think this one lives up to all the other ones, and I don't know why, so I can't fix it… and on top of that this chapter took _way_ too long to get out… Sigh… *tearfully watches temple crumble into a pile of rubble*… oh well, there's always next chapter (which is slowly but surely becoming my new motto…)

xXxmandyxXx: Actually, I was a fluff machine before this -.-; You should see some of my other stuff… sigh… I can't help it…

Yami's Girl Forever: Hey! That's what I think they should be like too! They annoy each other, but deep down they're really in love… eh… but maybe it's getting too fluffy for that? I dunno… 

Queen of Night: Eh? Something in your throat? *ahem* Anyway, I'm sorry if you don't like the fluffiness… there's gonna be more *makes a face*… but still plenty of bickering!

Karen1: Yeah, that's pretty much it… they can only sleep around each other… haha… maybe it's a little weird, but it made sense when I came up with it…

Souten: Yay! You like the owl! If I had an owl, I'd want it to be like Lewelyn… he's just fun… but anyway, glad you like!

Bulma Greenleaf: Yes. I am terrified of your cute deadly dragons… *cringes in fear* especially since I _did_ notice that was a threat… Ah! Dragons!! *runs and hides*


	15. Complications

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 15:

Complications

          A couple of the worst weeks of Ron's life were over at last. Even seated as he was between Harry and Hermione in Double Potions with the Slytherins, Ron was hard pressed to keep from smiling. Nothing could sour his mood, not even the torment of an extended class with Snape and the rest of his least favorite people.

          He and Hermione had finally made up after two horrendous weeks – not that he could really remember what they had been fighting about in the first place. Only that it had begun a relatively bad day, the only high point being Malfoy's absence in Transfiguration that morning, and that both his and Hermione's moods had been at a low point. 

Well, that was all over now.

Ron turned his eyes on the girl seated next to him for a moment, watching her fondly as she studiously scribbled down every word that came out of Snape's mouth, admiring the way the torchlight bounced off the gold in her hair. As if she had felt the weight of his gaze Hermione looked up suddenly. She smiled at him – she really did have a dazzling smile… 

Of course a moment later she gave a nod that encompassed his empty parchment and the quill in his motionless hand, indicating that he ought to be taking notes. He could only grin sheepishly and pretend to pay closer attention to whatever the bloody hell Snape was blathering about.

Hermione shook her head and turned back to her notes, squeezing his hand once beneath the table.

Yeah, this was how it was supposed to be. 

Beside him Harry gave a subtle, comedic gag. Ron elbowed him in the side, chuckling in spite of himself. Harry must have had a rough time of it too these past couple weeks and a pang of guilt struck Ron suddenly. 

It wasn't fair to Harry when he and Hermione put him in the middle of their arguments. It wasn't a common occurrence, as most of their arguments were stupid and inconsequential, but he knew it bothered Harry. Ron made a mental note to keep any future spats strictly between him and Hermione. 

Well, even if Harry had been as miserable as he had been, he also seemed to have made the same excellent recovery. He appeared to be in high spirits, at any rate, grinning and making jokes at the expense of the Slytherins and their potions master and that eased Ron's sense of guilt.

Hermione was happy, Harry was happy, he was happy.

All in all, things were looking pretty good just about then.

_Now, if only we could find a way out of double Potions it would be perfect,_ Ron thought as he leaned his head heavily in his hand. There was little chance of that happening. Draco Malfoy would drop off the face of the planet before they would get out of Potions class…

There was a thump nearer to the front of the room and, as one, the class (Ron, Harry, and Hermione with it) turned towards the noise. It was with shock and surprise that they realized Draco Malfoy – the epitome of everything that was Slytherin – had hit the desk head first and fallen asleep in the middle of Potions. Absolutely unheard of. 

Ron struggled to contain his laughter. He heard Harry muffle a snort next to him and decided it would be prudent not to meet his eyes. 

If Malfoy wasn't going to drop off the face of the planet, certainly dropping off in the middle of his head of house's class was the next best thing. Even Snape couldn't possibly let this one slide.

It took a considerable amount of will-power not to cackle as Ron watched the Slytherin sitting next to Malfoy prod the sleeping boy's shoulder, an unexpectedly amused expression across his face. The urge to laugh faded into confusion as Malfoy remained unconscious even through his neighbor's shaking and shouting. Ron frowned. The bloke was all right, wasn't he? 

Snape's anger seemed to have dissipated as well and that cinched it for Ron. He was left with an uncomfortable bit if guilt squirming in his stomach. He had practically wished for something like this to happen, but… he hadn't really meant it…

The Slytherins and Gryffindors alike watched Malfoy float out of the room with the assistance of a mobile-corpus spell, as if he were asleep on an invisible bed. Snape followed him out, directing the spell presumably towards the hospital wing. 

There was a long moment of silence before the class realized they had been left unattended and the room broke out in excited chatter.      

"What do you think happened to him?" Ron wasted no time in asking.

Harry just shrugged. "I dunno – fainted, maybe? Kids used to do that in my school once in a while when it got too hot…"

"Well, he was obviously unconscious," Hermione put in factually. "It could have resulted from any number of things."

"I was wishing he'd drop off the face of the earth a few minutes ago – do you think that could have done it?" said Ron skeptically. He didn't believe he'd had anything to do with the situation, but he felt a bit guilty all the same. Sure he hated Malfoy, but it wasn't as if he would try and do him any harm – any _lasting_ harm, anyway.

Harry snorted. "Not bloody likely, mate. Sorry to disappoint you." 

"Why would you wish a thing like that?" asked Hermione, raising a brow.

Ron shrugged. "Why _wouldn't _I?" 

"Oh, come now. What's he done to you?"

Two sets of incredulous eyes – one green and one brown – turned on her. 

"I mean recently," Hermione amended.

"Well… I can't think of anything at the moment, but –"

Ron was cut off by a first year Hufflepuff. "You're Ron Weasley?" the smaller boy asked, almost timidly.

"Um… yeah…"

"Madame Pomfrey sent me – she wants you in the infirmary."

Ron blinked. What could Madame Pomfrey possibly want him for? He sent a glance at Harry and Hermione, seeking some sort of help, but they just shrugged, looking as surprised as he was. 

"You'd better go then," Hermione said. "I'll fill you in on what you've missed later."

Ron only nodded helplessly as he followed the first year out of the classroom. It belatedly occurred to him that he had received both his wishes. And that neither was quite what he had expected. 

Ginny opened her eyes only to promptly snap them shut at the sunlight pouring through the window. She tried again, lifting her lids slowly as the world – more specifically, the hospital wing – came into focus. Hospital wing? The last thing she remembered was…

_Divination… did I fall asleep?_ She frowned pensively. Under other circumstances falling asleep in Divination wouldn't be much to wonder at, but she was hardly sleeping in her own bed and if she had in fact fallen asleep during class, why was she in the hospital wing? Why not just wake her up and slap her with a detention?

That's what they should have done… unless… there was something wrong with her? The infirmary was for the ill, after all. But she didn't feel particularly sick, just bloody tired, and that had become the norm as of late.

Ginny rolled over onto her side, tugging the crisp white linen that the infirmary beds always employed with her. Then she blinked. The occupant of the bed next to hers was staring at her. So she stared back, and after a moment a slow smile spread across her face.

Draco gave a half-smirk in response.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, sitting up in bed.

"Hello to you too," said Draco flatly. Ginny just giggled at him. "I don't know what's going on – I was in Potions and then…" he trailed off, frowning into his lap. "I don't remember."

          Ginny's brows flew up. Well, that sounded uncannily familiar. The same thing that had happened to her had happened to Draco, it seemed. Was there something going around? No one else had gotten sick that she knew of. She glanced around the room; it was empty but for her and Draco.

          "And you?" Draco's voice cut into her thoughts. "What happened? Finally managing to hurt yourself instead of innocent bystanders?" he teased, arching a brow in her direction.

          Ginny blinked. "Innocent bystanders? If you're referring to yourself, don't bother – I was there." She paused before adding, "And besides, you wouldn't know innocent if it bit you in the arse." 

          "My heart bleeds."

          "Yeah, I'll bet –" she made a face, shifting uncomfortably in her wrinkled uniform "– Ugh, I need a shower."

          "Don't have to tell me twice," Draco said, waving a hand before his nose. The remark was met with a flying pillow. 

          "Oh, shut up," Ginny grinned in spite of herself. "You're one to talk!"

          She thought she caught the hint of a smile on Draco's face, but before it could bloom into something more someone cleared their throat in the corner of the room, and they both turned towards the noise. It was Professor McGonagall. Ginny wondered how long her head of house had been standing there, a little miffed that the moment had been spoiled.

          "I see you're awake," said McGonagall primly, "I'll alert Madame Pomfrey."

          The professor's words brought another question to Ginny's mind: How long had she been out? She could remember feeling particularly exhausted just before her memory lapsed into nothingness, but now she felt fairly rested, more so than she had in days, though that wasn't saying much. She didn't have long to contemplate the situation before Madame Pomfrey bustled into the room.

          "So, you're finally up, are you?" the nurse commented, as she made herself busy checking their energy levels and vital stats.

          "F-finally?" Ginny echoed, not sure of what to expect. "What do you mean? How long have we been out?"

          Madame Pomfrey turned her eyes on Ginny, brows raised. "Why, just over an entire day now – though I suppose I can't expect you to know."

          "W-what!?" she and Draco gasped in unison. They exchanged a glance before they both turned their attention back to Madame Pomfrey.

          "An entire day…" Ginny mused, trying to get accustomed to the idea.

          "What the hell happened?" asked Draco, his voice hard. Ginny sighed inwardly. Not a patient bone in that boy's body…

          Astonishingly Madame Pomfrey didn't reprimand him for his language, though she did send a frosty glare in his direction. 

          "It's not my place to answer that – I can say what happened was largely due simply to exhaustion, but it has been made known to me that there were other acting factors. I don't doubt that the headmaster will want to see you after this; I believe your families have been called in as well."

          Ginny paled a few shades. They had owled her family… then it must be serious. She studied her open palms. What was wrong with her? And for that matter, what was wrong with Draco? They seemed to be displaying the same symptoms; maybe they were suffering from the same illness. It would make sense, she supposed, with all the close contact they'd had since their return to Hogwarts. 

A transfer of diseases between them certainly wasn't too farfetched… but then, no one else seemed to have contracted it. What kind of sickness was this anyway? She felt perfectly fine.

"Madame Pomfrey, can you at least tell us if there's something the matter?"

Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I don't believe it is anything fatal – there is nothing _wrong with you, at any rate – outside of your unhealthy amounts fatigue, that is. As I said before: I'm not at liberty to say much else." When she caught sight of their frustrated expressions she added, "Not to worry, though. You will be filled in on all the details in short order, I'm sure – in fact, I ought to go inform the headmaster that you are no longer unconscious…"_

"There will be no need for that."

Ginny turned towards the voice, half expecting to see Dumbledore himself, but knowing by the clipped tones that it was only McGonagall. 

"I've informed him already," She continued, "You have an hour to make yourselves more comfortable; wash up, change clothes, things of that sort. After you've finished you will be directed to the headmaster's office."

For her part Ginny could only nod dumbly and follow Draco out the door, uncomfortably aware of the sense of uneasiness creeping up on her.

A/N: AH!! What's happening to me?? I used to be such a quick updater… well, sort of… At any rate, I think I have my inspiration back so the next chapter should be out shortly. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!!

Queen of Night: Bitterness??? In this fic? Huh… or… were you talking about something completely different? Well whatever you meant, thanks for the review! I enjoyed your song immensely ^^

Littlebluebanana: Finally!! Someone who thinks like I do ^_^! The original draft of the last chapter was a little less fluffy, but my beta made me change it… oh well, no one else commented on it so I guess its ok… it was only a _little_ too fluffy, right?

DRUIDGIRL: Haha – 'pleasingly peopled'!! That has to be one of the greatest phrases I've ever heard! Glad you liked the story so much – I aim to please ^_~

VirginiaMalfoy16: 0.0 you're criticizing my authors notes?? Wow… Haha ^^;;… sorry for being such a downer. I just write what I'm thinking of at the time… I think it's spawned by this strange embarrassment I have of anything I've written recently. While I'm scrolling down the page to get to the bottom where I write my a/n's I see what I've written and… yeah… -.- I have self-esteem issues – but don't worry, I won't let them show through in my author's notes anymore!! 

Leena: Hehe – Draco _is_ annoying, isn't he ^^? That's why we love him… Anyway, about the robe – she only wore it so she wouldn't have to walk back to her dorm in her pajamas. She changed to a Gryffindor robe when she got back to the dorm. Sorry if that wasn't clear -.-;

Lady-Thetis: Yay! Someone thinks my story is clever! I try so hard to make the characters sound witty… Thanks for the review!!

Freyliskat: Haha…I guess you don't have to wonder anymore ^^;

Grace: They make your day? I'm so touched ^_^!! Glad you like the story!

Bulma Greenleaf: You'll like this story no matter what? Even if I killed off Draco and paired Ginny with Harry?? *cringes in horror* Yes… terrible thought, that is… I don't think I could do it if I tried… Ginny and Harry… *shudders*

Stary eyez: Your excited for the next update? Sorry for the delay – even I don't know why this chapter took so long to get out… But I'm glad you're enjoying the story!

Emily22: Haha… looks like this was more than a little late in coming… but living arrangements should pop up next chapter… *laughs evilly*

Hplova4eva: You've reviewed almost every chapter and I just want to say that I really appreciate it. Even though you say pretty much the same thing every time, it's encouraging all the same – this way, I know you haven't lost interest in my story^^! Thanks for all the reviews!

Black_Dots: Not as much Draco/Ginny interaction as I would've liked in this chapter… but oh well – yeah, school is a killer… argh… no me gustan los clases!! Erm… sorry, just had an hour and a half of Spanish… anyway school just seems a lot harder this year… or maybe I'm just stupider -.-;; Oh well. At least I still have my temple ^^!

xXxmandyxXx: haha… Your muse has returned, eh? Then why haven't you updated your story?? *shakes head* Shame on you! Not that I'm much better with updating lately… ah well, glad you liked!


	16. Miss Communicating

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Chapter 16:

Miss communicating 

          Minerva McGonagall stood impatiently before the stone gargoyle that hid the passage to the headmaster's office. The black sole of her right shoe beat a steady tattoo against the stone floor, and it echoed down the maddeningly empty corridors. Arms crossed over her stomach, she shifted her shoulders uneasily, glancing from the hideous stone statue at her back to the lifeless halls before her. 

          Really! She had sent a couple elves off at least ten minutes ago – how long could it possibly take them to retrieve a couple of students? 

          Minerva's eyes darted once to the gargoyle as the circumstances under which those two students were being summoned to the headmaster's office rose in her mind. Could it really be that – she had to force herself to even think these next words – that Sybill had been… _right_?

          She had initially dismissed the matter of the… crossing stars, or whatever nonsense after it had been brought up in the faculty meeting, as was her first instinct with all issues that the Divination teacher brought up. The topic probably would have left her mind completely of Albus hadn't taken it so seriously. It was true that the man had a rather nasty tendency to indulge his peers – particularly ones as delusional as Trelawney – but he had looked so… grave.

          The memory of that particular faculty meeting came to her suddenly. 

          _"If the circumstances that Sybill has related to us are indeed coming to pass here at Hogwarts – or anywhere else for that matter – there is little we can do outside of informing the pair involved…We must try to make them as comfortable as possible for the duration of this event; however, if they do not reside in this area, we can not even do that…" _ 

          If Minerva knew one thing about Gryffindors – and she knew quite a bit, being head of Gryffindor and one herself – it was that they hated being helpless. It seemed that was just how Albus felt about this situation. That in itself told her that he was taking it seriously. And if she wanted any more evidence she need only think back about a half hour…

          She never thought she'd see the day! Why, she'd almost thought she was dreaming when she'd walked in on those two. A Malfoy and a Weasley, one of her precious Gryffindors and a Slytherin, bantering like friends. Good friends – no, more than that…

          Just how long had _that_ been going on?

          Minerva frowned suddenly as a thought occurred to her. Ginny was apparently… close… with Draco now. Perhaps they had met on the way to the headmaster's and…?

          She shook her head to dispel the notion. That couldn't be it. No matter her taste in companions, she trusted Ginny Weasley. If they were late, it was for a good reason. Not that that made it any more excusable.

          Her eyes slid once more to the stone gargoyle. She knew it was ridiculous, but she had always hated that thing. It was just plain… creepy.

          Thankfully the sound of voices reached Minerva's ears and as they became clearer she realized that her two errant students had decided to show up at last. 

          "…supposed to follow the house elf! Why else would she send them?" That was Ginny, her voice more amused than irritated.

          "I don't know, I just wanted to get rid of the damn thing," Draco said almost sullenly as they came into view. His hands were hidden within his pockets, his shoulders hunched a bit in a defensive posture. Minerva was hard-pressed not to raise an eyebrow at this – Draco Malfoy, cowed by the youngest Weasley. 

Why had she never seen this before? They clashed in so many ways – their status, their families, their beliefs, even their hair for Merlin's sake! – that it made a strange sort of sense for them to end up together whether it lasted or not. Watching them, the way they stood together as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Minerva was inclined to believe that it would. But they were young yet. And who was she to judge, anyway?

"Sorry we're late, professor," Ginny said as they approached, looking properly abashed. In contrast Draco looked high and mighty as usual.

"It's quite alright, Miss Weasley. Just don't let it happen again."

"Yes, professor."

Minerva turned to the gargoyle and recited the password, "Drooble's Best Bubblegum." She took a place on one of the steps as they rose out of the ground. Draco and Ginny followed her lead, Draco teasing Ginny for her polite behavior in a hushed voice on the way up.

When she opened the door and stepped into the headmaster's office three pairs of eyes turned to greet her. Molly Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy had taken chairs before Dumbledore's desk, which was occupied by Dumbledore himself. They simply nodded to her in greeting. Severus, who stood to the right of the desk and was, like she for Ginny, there as Draco's head of house, hadn't even batted an eye at her entrance, but that was to be expected. 

Draco and Ginny followed her in, standing awkwardly before those present. The headmaster greeted them with a smile before swiftly conjuring a couple more chairs.

Albus twinkled at the small assembly. "Now that we're all here –" 

"Wait! What about Dad?" Ginny asked suddenly. Her mother placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Not to worry dear, he got held up at the ministry; I'll explain to him once I return home."

"Oh…" 

Albus cleared his throat. "If I may continue…?" Red-faced, Ginny muttered an apology. "No need for that, Miss Weasley. Now, there is a small I matter that needs to be discussed…"

The more Albus spoke, the more amazed Minerva became. If it could successfully bind a Weasley to a Malfoy, perhaps there was something to Divination after all…

Draco wasn't quite sure what to make of anything at the moment. It was as if the world had been turned upside down while he had been out and now every last vestige of reason had been scattered beyond his reach. Put simply things were just plain… weird.

 He had slept for a day, Dumbledore was acting nuttier than usual, people actually believed Trelawney's rubbish – people that mattered, not twits like Brown and Patil – his mother didn't mind that he was apparently destined to be with a Weasley, and… he was apparently destined to be with a Weasley. 

Apparently.

He wondered what Ginny thought of all this… her mother had only looked slightly horrified, so that was probably a good sign – but then so had his own mother, and he didn't know what sort of sign that was supposed to be…

_"It's your life, Draco, not mine. Your father might have considered this a curse, but I believe it will prove to be a blessing…"_

He took that to mean she was going to stay out of his business as usual.

She hadn't said much more to him. Narcissa always was a woman of few words. Merlin knew his father would have had much more to say, but the man was in prison now so his opinion was null and void. And that was a good thing, as far as Draco was concerned. Lucius would only muck things up further.

He had gotten off lucky with his mother. Molly Weasley had been a little less understanding… No, she wasn't totally scandalized – though her expression just after the ball was dropped had been priceless – but she had directed more than one stern glance in his direction. He didn't know whether to feel threatened or annoyed. 

If there was one thing he did know, however, it was that he didn't believe a word of that garbage Dumbledore had been spouting. Well… actually it was more like he didn't _want _to believe because it was rather hard not to. It certainly would explain a few things… 

The strange coincidences could be tossed off as twists of fate, the 'illness' over the holidays could have been a result of stretching the ties between his physical body and Ginny's, and even the sleeplessness could be explained away as the longing of his astral body for its 'other half.' But it sure sounded like a load to him.

Ultimately it didn't matter whether he believed or not. He still felt the same about Ginny, and if he was fated do to that then… what was the difference? If anything it would probably result in less death threats from overprotective brothers since he and Ginny now had a legitimate reason to be around each other. All the better.

He didn't really care if it was real. The fact was, everyone else did and he was going to have to rearrange his life around this so-called fated occurrence whether he liked it or not. And that was another thing… 

Draco slammed his trunk shut, immensely satisfied with the way the crash of the lids bounced around his chambers.  

Packing was always such a bother.

Ginny wiped her brow with the back of her hand as the clasps on her trunk snapped shut. There. She had finished packing. Now all she had to do was wait for Professor McGonagall to tell her where to go. Glancing around the empty dorm Ginny decided the best place to do that would be in the common room. She made her way down the stairs, leaving the massive trunk behind for a house elf to pick up later.

As she settled into a cozy armchair by the fire she took note of the calm that had settled over her since leaving Dumbledore's office. It was the calm before the storm. She would probably break into hysterics later when it all came crashing down on her, but for now it all seemed like some sort of dream, too far away to be real. That was fine with her because she wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation anyway.

So, Draco was supposed to be her… soul mate, of sorts? Ginny wasn't exactly sure she understood it all. She got the gist of it, though. She and Draco were literally meant to be.

On one hand explaining him to Ron would be a whole lot easier. Her hot-tempered brother probably wouldn't have been able to wrap his mind around the fact that Draco could be a likeable person. But with this new development, she could rattle off many reasons why Ron shouldn't interfere… and she would have Dumbledore to back her up if he didn't believe – which brought her to the other hand.

Did she believe it? And if she did, did that make her feelings somehow less real?

Ginny frowned into the fire as the calm began to ebb.

"Ginny!"

She looked up at the sound of her name to find Ron, Harry, and Hermione rushing towards her. 

"We went to the hospital wing to check on you," Ron said by way of explanation, "but Madame Pomfrey told us you'd already been released. I can't believe how quickly you got out of there! Are you sure you're alright? Do you even know what happened? Was it the same thing that got Malfoy?"

Ginny blinked at the surge of questions, not sure what to answer first or if she should answer at all.

"Ron, don't overwhelm her!" Hermione reprimanded. "She just got out of the hospital wing."

"Right, right," Ron waved her off, "but, Gin, why didn't you go back to class?"

"H-how'd you know that I didn't?" she stuttered. Ff he knew that, how much else did he know?

"Madame Pomfrey told us you were released at the same time as Malfoy," supplied Harry, "and since the same thing seemed to have happened to you two and he didn't show up for classes either…"     

"Oh…"

Ron's gaze became reflective – well, about as reflective as Ron got anyway. "Say, weren't you and Malfoy taken in to the hospital wing at the same time too?"

"Well," Ginny faltered, "I wasn't exactly conscious at the time, but Madame Pomfrey seemed to think we had been out of it for the same amount of time."

"Did she tell you what happened to the both of you?" Hermione put in, apparently no longer worried about overwhelming Ginny. "It was the same thing wasn't it?"

Ginny paused before answering. She knew where this was headed – she'd known as soon as the trio had set foot inside the common room. Whether it happened sooner or later she wasn't going to escape this conversation without explaining to them about Draco and her apparent fate and… and everything. 

It had been inevitable from the very start, since even before she had known the cause of all those coincidences, but still she found herself clinging to her little secret. Things were deceptively simple the way they were now. She liked it that way, which was why it made sense that things would have to change. 

"Actually, Madame Pomfrey didn't tell us," said Ginny. She swallowed and forged ahead. "Professor Dumbledore did…"

There was a general confusion amongst the trio, as all three of them tried to ask what she meant at the same time. It was Harry who eventually received the honor.

"What do you mean? Why Dumbledore?" 

With that, Ginny launched into an explanation, repeating as much of Dumbledore's speech as she could remember. She told them about the stars, about her sleeplessness. She told them she had passed out from a combination of exhaustion and being too far from her 'other half,' and how that was also the reason for her supposed sickness over the holidays. She told them about the coincidences, the movements of heaven, and the workings of fate – and she managed it all without once mentioning Draco's name. Harry and Hermione looked enlightened anyway. Ron… perhaps a little less so…

"So who's the lucky bloke?" Ron asked afterwards, clearly amused. Then an odd expression stole across his face. "Oh, wait…"

Ginny cut in before the epiphany could continue. "The long and short of it is, Draco and I seem to be meant for each other – which is just fine because we've been dating since the winter holidays."

          And the cat was out of the bag at last. It was kind of a relief.

          Hermione smiled as if she had just been proven right. Harry looked a bit shocked, and not in the pleasant way. Ron began to turn red, and by the look on his face Ginny didn't doubt he was seeing it too.

          "Gin! I don't believe this!" Ron burst out after a pregnant pause. 

          "I do," Hermione chimed in. "I knew there was something going on."

          "Hermione!" Ron sounded scandalized. "You knew!? And you didn't tell us? You're supposed to be on our side!"

          Ginny breathed a sigh, relieved that she was no longer the primary target now that Hermione had also been drawn into the line of fire. Unfortunately the reprieve didn't last long. In fact it ended shortly after Harry interrupted Ron and Hermione's bickering, wondering out loud at the fact that he had seen Ginny in Slytherin robes the very same day that Malfoy had missed his morning classes. 

          The attention was all on her now, and Ginny couldn't help but envision all the different ways she might make The Boy Who Lived into The Boy Who Wasn't Living Any Longer. 

          Chaos ensued.

          Harry and Hermione had to work together to restrain Ron, who seemed intent on going after Draco right there and then – and Ginny thought that Harry was looking a bit wistfully in the direction of the common room door, as if he too wouldn't mind spilling a little Malfoy blood. Belatedly she realized that she too had joined in the effort to hold Ron back, and that she was shouting at the top of her lungs trying to convince him that it wasn't how it sounded, and that they were attracting a lot of stares from the other occupants of the common room.

          Over all, things could have gone a lot smoother.

          Suddenly Professor McGonagall swept into the room, and the commotion stopped beneath her iron gaze. Inside Ginny's mind, however, the commotion had just grown louder as she remembered that she still had to explain to them that she was leaving her dorm in favor of rooming with Draco so they could both get some sleep.

           Not that anyone would believe that now.

A/N: Argh… I've been busy lately, and lazy, and pretty uninspired. But I'll continue, don't worry. I know I'm skipping out on replying to the reviews this time, but if I did that it would take even longer to get this chapter up. Sorry! I know you've all been asking for quicker updates and longer chapters, but I don't think it's going to happen…. I'll try my best. See you next time. 


	17. Rising Tension

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Chapter 17:

Rising Tension 

          It was nightfall by the time McGonagall finished lecturing Draco and Ginny on the rules of proper conduct in their new environment. She had droned on for hours, the severe tone of her voice promising to ring in Ginny's ears long after she'd left. And so it did, but the effect was not as dire as McGonagall had most likely intended. Instead it was something of a comfort that Ginny was still being given 'the talk' even after things had gone so haywire. 

          Haywire. Yes, that was one way to describe the path her life had taken. Ginny winced as she recalled the way she had left Ron and the others, still steaming in the common room. He would be… difficult to deal with for some time. 

          Well, at least she seemed to have an ally in Hermione. If anyone could cool Ron's jets it would be her. And maybe she could work some of that magic on Harry while she was at it.

          Ginny laid out her pajamas on the new bed and glanced around. Her new quarters were fairly spacious – probably the largest room she'd ever had to herself. Even though the fire roared merrily from the hearth, and she knew Draco was in the next room, Ginny couldn't help but feel a bit lonely. 

          Taking stock once more of the finely crafted furniture, the crisp, clean bed linen, and the large cushy chair by the fire she decided she could easily get used to that.

          The rooms were actually set up similarly to the chambers of the head boy and girl, rather than the two-person dorm Ginny had envisioned for herself and Draco. They each had their own separate quarters, but the bathroom linked them together. Speaking of… her eyes flew to the door that concealed the bathroom as she let her skirt join the shirt on the floor. Was it locked? Even if it wasn't Draco wasn't likely to come in while she was changing, but… she wriggled hastily into her night clothes anyway.

          Quietly she shuffled into the bathroom. The sight that greeted her was that of a long counter embedded with two sinks on either side. She took the general disarray of the sink on Draco's side to mean that he had already finished his business and took her time washing up for the night. When her teeth were brushed and her face scrubbed clean, she paused, her gaze fixed on the doorway to Draco's bedroom.

          They hadn't had a chance to talk since the visit to Dumbledore's. How was he taking all this? He had seemed somewhat startled after the bomb had been dropped, but then so had she… He hadn't sought her out either. She frowned at the door, as if it were somehow at fault, and steeled her nerves. If he wasn't curious as to how she was reacting, she wouldn't let that stop her from finding out what was on his mind.

          Ginny gripped the handle and yanked on the door. It was a good thing it opened towards her, or she would have pummeled Draco with it. They stared at each other, blinking for a moment, each on opposite sides of the doorway. Draco was the first to move, stepping to the side and making a grand sweeping gesture.

          "Come in," he said simply. He sounded a bit tired, and it took Ginny a moment to realize that she was a trifle sleepy as well. 

          She came into the room, taking it in and noting the similarities between it and her own quarters. They were virtually the same, but for the color scheme, which was a little darker than hers, and the slightly more masculine edge to some of the furniture. She made herself comfortable sitting cross-legged atop his neatly made bedspread. 

          "Well," she began after a stretch of silence, "what do you think?"

          "It's much more spacious than my old room." He sounded as if he were perfectly serious. Only the slight twitch of his lip betrayed him. "I quite like it."

          "That's not what I meant," Ginny rolled her eyes.

          "I know," said Draco, moving to sit beside her on the bed. "But there's not much to think about is there? Whether it's real or not, we can't do anything – no one can."

          "That was uplifting."

          "I try."

          She looked into his face, searching for… well, she wasn't exactly sure what. "So, this whole thing… it doesn't bother you? At all?"

          He looked affronted. "Of course it does! It's a damn nuisance – all the packing and… we'll have to rearrange our schedules, you know. So that we're never on opposite sides of the castle." 

Ginny frowned. She hadn't thought of that, but it made sense. They had been on opposite sides of the castle when they'd both passed out – he in the dungeons for Potions and she high up in Professor Trelawney's tower for Divination. How could Dumbledore keep that from happening, short of rearranging the entire fifth and sixth year schedules? He probably couldn't… maybe they would be taken out of classes altogether and tutored privately? 

Whatever. She didn't want to think about it now…

"That's true," Ginny murmured. "I should have thought of that before."

          It was a mark of how tired Draco actually was that he refrained from adding in a verbal barb after her last comment.

          "We don't have much of a say in how things play out now. All we can do is use it to our advantage when we can."

          Ginny arched a brow.  "How could we possibly use this situation to our advantage?" 

          The question suddenly seemed inane in the face of Draco's lazy half-grin. He put an arm around her and they both fell backwards onto the bed together. Ginny smiled and slipped her arms around him, suddenly incredibly comfortable. 

          "You make it seem very simple," she told him, shifting her body closer to his. She could feel him shrug beside her.

          "I do what I can."

          They fell asleep that way, content and shut off from the world.

          Winter was lovely, what with all the snow. When all the grounds were coated with glistening white it was a sight to behold. Spring was fairly nice too, in a fresh green sort of way. 

But the transition was quite the opposite. 

Where the sparse patches of snow had melted completely, mud and plants deadened by winter showed through, and the thinning snow mixed more easily with the dirt below, making a sort of brown slush. There was some green, yes, a sign of coming spring, but it only served as contrast to the russet remains of foliage and dirt. Even the lake was looking a bit dull.

          So, Ron supposed, it was just as well that he was stuck inside anyway.

          He turned his head away from the library window and back to the book in front of him. It wouldn't do him any good to think of all the things he could be doing on this admittedly not-so-lovely Saturday afternoon. It had been his choice to be here, he reminded himself. It didn't do a lot of good.

          At the table next to him sat Hermione, leafing through a book considerably larger than the one in front of him and the one in front of Harry, who sat directly across from him. In fact, it was probably larger than both his and Harry's books put together. Ron didn't wonder at her enthusiasm – he was used to it by now – but he couldn't help goggling at her perseverance. She'd been at this longer than he had, and Ginny wasn't even related to her…

          Ginny. She was the reason they were there in the first place. A few days had gone by since her little 'announcement.' And his little sister was avoiding him. Which was understandable considering how violently he had reacted, but…

          _Dammit__! I deserve to know who she's going around with, don't I? Ron frowned, his head leaning heavily against his palm as he stared listlessly at the open pages in front of him. _

          The way he understood it, it wasn't entirely Ginny's fault that Malfoy had wormed his way into her good graces. It had to do with their respective stars coming together… or something. Ginny didn't seem to have any control over this affliction, and neither did anyone else, so they had come to the library – Ron for his sister, Hermione out of interest, and Harry out of loyalty and friendship to both Ron and Ginny. If this was some sort of illness that Ginny was infected with – and it sure sounded like one to him – there had to be a way to cure it, and if there was a way to cure it, they were going to find it. 

          And anything that had to do with sharing quarters with a Malfoy had to be an illness, right?

          Oh, he'd gone through the roof when he heard about that one, but the way McGonagall explained it they wouldn't be allowed to do anything – Ron shivered – inappropriate. McGonagall was too trusting. _He wouldn't trust Malfoy as far as he could throw him. And that wasn't very far at all. _

          Yes, he was going to cure his poor, suffering sister as soon as possible. Or at least find out more about whatever she was suffering. Ron didn't allow himself to think about what he would do if there was no cure to be found. Or what he would do if it wasn't actually an illness. Or if Ginny didn't want to be cured. Or if – _Argh__! Stop that!_

           "Is anyone else bored to tears?" Ron said to no one in particular. 

          Harry blew out a breath, looking relieved for a distraction. "Hate to say it, but…"

          "You two! This is for Ginny, remember," Hermione rebuked them without moving her eyes from the text in front of her.

          "I didn't say I was going to stop looking," Ron muttered. 

          Of the three of them Hermione was the one who openly supported Ginny's… relationship… with Malfoy. And yet she was also the most enthusiastic about researching ways to treat the affliction. Knowing Hermione, the fervor probably stemmed from intellectual interest.

          Ron sighed inwardly, and tried unsuccessfully to muster the same enthusiasm as Hermione. It was his brotherly duty to do this. Might as well be excited about it.

          Even so, his eyes wandered to the window again. The sight that greeted him was something of a motivator. Two figures were walking close together by the lake, blonde and fiery heads bent towards each other. They seemed to be heading back towards the castle. 

          Funny. Ron hadn't known Ginny was going out today.

          He turned back to the book, ready to research seriously this time. Before he got the chance though, Hermione spoke up.

          "Ron…I… I think I've found something…"

          He decided right away that the tremor in her voice was not a good sign.

          Ginny couldn't help but smile as she strolled into the front hall, her hand warm inside Draco's. They'd taken a trip to Hogsmeade and it had been… quite lovely, really. The fate predicament slipped easily from her mind when she had something to distract her.

          And time with Draco was a welcome distraction.

          "Ginny!"

          She looked up, surprised at the sudden shout, and even more so when she recognized the voice. Ron was racing down the hall towards her and Draco. Hermione and Harry weren't far behind. 

Ginny's first thought was that he was after Draco, but Ron looked more frantic than out for blood. She pushed aside the urge to step between the two boys with more than an ounce of shame. Thinking the worst of Ron wouldn't get her anywhere.

          Ron banked to a halt in front of them, his face flushed as if he had run down here from the astronomy tower – and for all Ginny knew he might have. He bent over to catch his breath, hands clasping above his knees for support.

          "Ginny, I – We… we found…" he took a deep breath, and started over. "We found something. Something you ought to take a look at." He straightened up, still looking a bit winded as Hermione and Harry came up behind him, both breathing heavily. What could he possibly have to tell her that was so important?

          To Ginny's dismay, Ron finally seemed to take note of Draco's presence. He eyed him shrewdly, and then with the air of great self-sacrifice he added, "I suppose you should know as well."

          Draco raised a sardonic brow, but before he could comment Hermione broke in.

          "Of course he should come! It involves him as much as Ginny! Honestly, Ron, I'm not saying you have to be friends, but at least be decent."

          Ron made a face. "That _was_ decent. Decent enough."

          Hermione gave a little huff, and appeared about to say something more when Harry, apparently sensing the same stirrings of conflict that Ginny was, cleared his throat and interrupted.

          "I think we have more important things to discuss right now…"

          Ron and Hermione blinked simultaneously, both going red-faced. Ginny stifled a grin. Some things never changed.

          "R-right," said Hermione. She turned to look through the book-bag slung over her shoulder. "I checked out the book from the library… Here it is."

          She handed a book to Ginny; the cover was brown and cracked with age and the title had been rubbed off over the years. Ginny remained still, not sure what to do with it.

          "Well…?" said Draco flatly from beside her. Clearly, he was not impressed with the book or its supposed significance. Ginny couldn't help but feel about the same, though she tried not to. "What are we supposed to do with this?"

          "Oh…," Hermione frowned in thought, "Turn to page four hundred fifty two." 

          Ginny flipped open the book, careful of the stiff pages. Immediately words jumped out at her: words she remembered hearing in a private conference with the headmaster not too long ago. Had Ron, Hermione, and Harry been researching her… whatever-it-was…? Ginny frowned inwardly. It wasn't any of their business. 

          "Where did you find this?" she asked, trying to keep the spark of rage from her voice.

          Harry was the first to answer. "In the library."

          "That's not what I meant," Ginny said thinly. "Why do you have this book?"

          There was a general shuffling of feet amongst the trio during the rather strained silence that followed. Finally Hermione spoke up.

          "I thought it might be interesting to do a bit of research…"

          Ginny trusted Hermione was telling the truth – certainly she had no trouble believing it, but still…"You should have… asked, or – or something." 

          "You're right. I should have asked," Hermione promptly agreed.

          "We were just worried about you, Gin," said Ron.

          Ginny tried to sound reassuring. "But there's nothing to worry about."

          "Yes there is!"

          She started at that. It was like Ron to argue, but usually he came up with something, if not exactly highly sophisticated, at least a little more eloquent.

          "Just spit it out, Weasley," Draco said, looking altogether bored.

          Ginny, holding the book closed in one hand now, gave him a covert jab in the side before continuing more politely. "You've obviously got something important to tell us, Ron. What is it?"

          Her brother opened his mouth and closed it several times, his brows drawn together in hopelessness. Apparently words had failed him. Beside her, Ginny could hear Draco snort and she silently thanked him for not saying whatever was on his mind.

          "The book," Ron said finally. "Just read the page."

          Careful not to let her inward sigh escape her lips, Ginny flipped the book open again and began to read. It took a bit longer than it might have with Draco reading over her shoulder, but eventually she finished scanning the tiny print and looked up.

          She was afraid her face had gone a bit white.

          "I… Dumbledore never mentioned this…" was all she could think to say.

          "That's because it's utter rubbish." Draco took the book from her hands and handed it back to Hermione. Actually, he sort of shoved it at her, but Ginny decided not to make note of it. "Is this supposed to scare me? I'd tell you to do better, but if you thought this would work there can't be much hope of improvement."

          Ron, Hermione, and Harry all looked suitably horrified at Draco's instigation. Hermione's mouth had dropped open, Ron's face had taken a decidedly red cast to it, and Harry's brows had shot up, his eyes widening behind his glasses. Ginny supposed she had a similar expression on her face, but there was a part of her that almost wished it were true, that the whole thing was merely an attempt to break her away from Draco. 

          She could hardly be angry with Draco for jumping to that conclusion, though the insult hadn't been necessary. Were she in his position she would have thought the same thing. He had no grounds to trust Ron. But Ginny did. And besides that, there was no way Ron could have gotten Hermione to play a part in their act. 

          Which meant it was very probably real. And that was… scary.

          "How could you – How can you say that!?" Hermione gasped. 

          "Because he's a _Malfoy." Harry spat out the word like dirt._

          "Yeah," Ron put in, clenching a fist. "Must be easy when you're born without a sense of decency."

          Draco's face gave away nothing, but for a slight twitch of his brow. "It's easier than being born a blithering idiot, I'm sure." 

          Ron couldn't seem to manage anything more intelligent than, "Why you –" as he surged forward towards Draco, red-faced and with fists raised. Draco's wand was out in a flash. It took the combined forces of Ginny and Hermione to keep a fight from breaking out – Hermione clinging to Ron's arm, and Ginny stepping between the two would-be brawlers. 

Harry helped hold Ron back as well, albeit reluctantly. He was obviously not putting his all into the task, and though Ginny could understand his reasons, she mentally heaped the blame on him when Ron managed to break free.

The lanky red-head took a clumsy swing in the general direction of Draco's left eye. Draco leaned to the side to avoid the blow, and the momentum carried Ron into a sort of running stumble that sent him sprawling to the floor. His legs caught on Draco's as he went, and he took the blonde boy down with him, though probably not in the way he had originally intended. Draco's wand flew from his hand, coming to a stop when it hit the wall across the room.

From there it became a blur of motion as Harry, Hermione, and Ginny joined in, attempting to break the two apart. No one noticed Professor McGonagall standing in the door way until she cleared her throat.

"What is going on here?"

All of them paused for a split second before springing apart as if to prove them-selves innocent. For a while no one said anything.

"Well…?" Professor McGonagall prodded.

Ginny heard herself speak. "Is it true, Professor? About Draco and I… if the – the stars collide… are we going to… die?"

McGonagall's lips thinned, and that was all the answer Ginny needed. The passage from the book echoed in her mind: _"As the stars draw closer to one another the possibility of a clash is inevitable. There have been but two documented cases, but the results of both proved identical. Death in such cases, usually by seemingly unrelated coincidences, as seen in the early stages, is widely accepted as the result of the clash…"_

Ginny hardly heard McGonagall when she said, "It's not nearly as dramatic as you make it sound, Miss Weasley."

"Like hell, it's not," said Draco, by her side again. 

"Language, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall told him sharply, then seemed to deflate with a sigh and a shake of her head. "I'll let the headmaster sort this one out. All of you, follow me."

Stunned into silence, they all did as they were told. As he fell in beside her, Draco grumbled under his breath, "the old bat better have a good explanation."

Ginny privately agreed.

A/N: Latest one yet! *Sighs* I was busy – with homework and Halloween, among other things. School is a lot harder this year. And contrary to popular belief, I actually have a life (sometimes -.-). But besides that, I'm tired of this story. I'm going to finish it, but there are a lot of other things I'd rather be working on, so it's not easy. One more thing; yeah this chapter seems a little over the top, but I had it planned from the beginning, it's not merely an electric shock for my dying plot bunny.     

                   


	18. Not Quite Right

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Chapter 18:

Not Quite Right

          McGonagall had been right. It wasn't quite as dramatic as it seemed. 

          Throughout all the available records of instances similar to Ginny and Draco's a meager two of them had resulted in the tragic end Hermione's book had described. The risk was very low, Dumbledore had explained, and that was why he had not informed them of the possibility. He hadn't wanted to worry them further. That had been very Gryffindor of him, Ginny decided with enough acidity to rival one of Snape's remarks.

          Maybe Dumbledore had withheld the information for their own good, but – Gods, it made her angry. Hadn't they deserved to know? No matter how remote the chances? And the chances were fairly remote…

          So McGonagall had been right. Sort of.

          As faint as the possibility was, it was still a possibility. And that made it pretty damned dramatic from Ginny's point of view. 

          She bit her lip on the many comments that rose to mind as McGonagall shepherded them all from the headmaster's office. No great loss, that. Most of them had been pretty inappropriate anyway, and besides that, what sort of insult could anyone offer to _Dumbledore_? The old man had looked at them with sympathy in his startlingly blue eyes, his voice heavy with emotion as he said simply, _"I did not want to burden you."_

          The man was good, no doubt about it.

          So good in fact that even Draco had refrained from offering harsh words, though Ginny could see he was tenser coming out than when they had entered. He stayed silent until they were beyond the gargoyle that masked the stairwell.

          "Bloody old git," Draco muttered. 

          "He was only trying to help, you know."

          Ginny had all but forgotten about the trio, and she turned around to face them in surprise. It was Hermione who had spoken. Ginny couldn't find it in her to be cruel with her friend, but that didn't stop her from disagreeing.

          "Well, if that's Dumbledore's idea of help, I'd hate to be on his bad side," she said. She was fairly sure she had managed to keep her voice neutral. 

          "I'm not saying he was right…" Hermione replied, looking slightly abashed. Harry and Ron had similar expressions; actually, they all looked a bit awkward standing there – probably not sure whether to offer condolences or not, Ginny reflected bitterly. "Just that his intentions were good…"

          "And the world gasps collectively," Draco deadpanned. 

          The awkward looks became a bit more hostile in nature, but neither Ron, nor Harry made an attempt at revenge for the remark. Perhaps because there really wasn't anything to take revenge for. Draco hadn't openly insulted anyone with that comment – Slytherin cunning, Ginny wondered, or simply luck of the draw?

          "Hermione, we know Dumbledore meant well," Ginny stepped in, deciding to play peace-maker before she really had to. "But that doesn't really change anything…"

          "I – I know it doesn't. You have every right to be angry," said Hermione, "and I'm sorry. I… _we_ could have handled that situation better." She glanced firmly at Ron, and then at Harry, for agreement. Their nods were a tad uncoordinated, but Ginny chalked it up to bewilderment rather than reluctance. 

          Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, I've got to catch up on my studying – I'm falling behind after that time I took out to try and help you." Ginny gave a little snort. That wasn't likely to happen anytime soon. Hermione wouldn't really fall behind unless she was idle for the next century, but Ginny appreciated the sentiment. Hermione wouldn't have wasted her time on someone she didn't genuinely care for. 

          "I'll see you later, Ginny. Goodbye." She sent a little wave over her shoulder as she turned to go. Harry repeated the motion as he followed, and then only Ron was left, half-turned to head down the corridor as well. 

          "I'm sorry about the… the… everything," he concluded lamely. "See you, Gin." Then he left, too. Ginny watched them walk away.

          It was strangely ironic that the corridor that lead to Gryffindor tower and the one that lead to Ginny's new rooms forked the way they did. The trio had disappeared down the right hall, and Draco and Ginny would soon head down the left. A literal parting of ways. 

          The rift was undoubtedly larger in her mind than in reality, and surely they had made steps towards closing it just now, but she knew things had hardly changed. Hermione would be more subdued and Ron and Harry would continue along the same vein as before, minus the self-righteous anger. They would all probably avoid her, actually. None of them had looked extremely comfortable in her presence, and they probably wouldn't until the whole star fiasco was over. Then it would either fade into memory… or she would be too dead to care. 

          There was a cheering thought.

           But it faded to the back of her mind easily enough, looming like a black storm-head over her thoughts. It probably wasn't going to happen, Dumbledore had said. And if that was the case, then she wasn't going to think about it. She would act like everything was okay, because it probably (and hopefully) would be.        

          Ginny came out of her thoughts to find Draco staring at her, face unreadable. 

          "What?" she asked, genuinely curious.

          Draco shook his head. "Nothing." She twisted her lips in slight annoyance, but he took no notice. "I'm going back to the room; I have Charms homework to finish."

          Homework. How irrelevant that seemed to her now, in light of everything else. She had all but forgotten that she would still have to attend classes at all. It seemed very far away to her… but obviously not to Draco, if finishing Charms homework was all that was on his mind. That irked her. And yet she couldn't bring herself to ask him about it – if this really wasn't affecting him, what was the point?

          Ginny shuffled her feet before replying, "So do I. Let's go."

          She took his hand in both of hers for a moment. It was warm and lightly calloused. At least he didn't feel like a rock, even if he sometimes acted like one. She stared at their joined hands for a moment before interlacing her fingers with his and letting them hang.

          "What?" Draco asked, one brow arched.

          Ginny flashed him a smile. "Nothing." 

          His face said he was not amused, but Ginny noted the slight twitch of his lip with satisfaction.                  

"You must be either very vacant or very talented, then." She gave him a questioning look, knowing she was setting herself up and not caring. "To think of absolutely nothing for long moments at a time. I'm impressed."

She snorted and swatted him playfully. It was easy to forget about what might happen at times like these. It was even easier when he pulled her close and kissed her.

"Weren't we going to go back to the room?" Ginny asked, a few moments later. Briefly, Draco looked nonplussed. 

"Oh. Right. That." His voice was heavy with distaste, and she smiled into his robe before pulling away reluctantly. His hand was still warm inside hers.   

The walk back to their rooms was quiet for the most part. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but Ginny couldn't help wondering whether there was nothing to say, or if, like before, she was simply unable to say it.  

If school in general had begun to seem far off in light of Draco and Ginny's situation, then the anniversary ball had become practically non-existent. They were still forced to put up with the Saturday lessons, but it didn't seem as if they were working towards anything anymore. The ball was all but forgotten, pushed into the corner of Draco's mind like something he had to know but would never use. 

The arrival of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students, however, managed to put things back in proper perspective.

They showed up in much the same fashion as they had before, though Draco could note some differences. The enormous carriage of Beauxbatons was slightly larger, a feat he hadn't thought possible. If it had been the size of a large house years ago, it was now nearing the size of Draco's own manor, and the number of elephant-sized palominos had doubled. 

At least it wasn't that hideous shade of powder-blue this time. Instead it seemed to incorporate all of the Hogwarts colors – it _was the anniversary of Hogwarts, after all – and miraculously they did not seem to clash as horribly as usual. Still, Draco wasn't exactly sure whether it was an improvement or not._

The visiting Beauxbatons students had already been shepherded inside by the time Durmstrang's ship rose out of the vast whirlpool in the lake. It too was decked in Hogwarts style, the crests of both schools flying on the flags and imprinted onto the sails.   

The first and second years, which had not seen the spectacle before, were positively awestruck. Actually, even some of those who had seen it before were a bit fascinated. Draco was merely semi-interested, watching the show with a cool countenance. Ginny, on the other hand, watched with young eyes, all her attention focused on the new arrivals as if she had not seen it all before. 

Though Draco himself couldn't muster the same amount of curiosity, the look of contentment on her face probably could have kept him out in the chill for a while longer. Not that he would ever admit that out loud… He wasn't _that far gone, although Ginny would probably pull him even further out as time progressed, what with their 'destinies intertwined' and all – Draco shook his head. __No, I don't want to think about that._

          He abruptly took hold of his attention and turned it back to the present. As the rest of the students were beginning to move towards the castle for the welcoming feast, Ginny had begun to move in the opposite direction closer to the massive horses that drew the Beauxbatons carriage. She was almost near enough to reach out and touch one when he called out to her.

          "Ginny!"

          His stomach growled, and he hoped he could convince Ginny to leave the stupid beasts quickly. If he didn't know better, he would swear he could smell the feast all the way out here, and for a figment of his imagination, it smelled heavenly… ah, damn, but he was hungry.

          "Aren't they marvelous?" Ginny smiled, taking a few steps back to stand next to him, as he refused to come as close to the things as she had. "I wonder how they've gotten to be so big? They look just like muggle horses…"     

"Yes, fascinating…" said Draco blandly, hoping she would take the hint. She didn't, or didn't appear to, at least.

"Isn't it? And do they really need to drink only single-malt whiskey? I think I'll ask Hagrid about it."

"You do that." Draco sighed. "For now, perhaps you'd like to step away from the animal, and continue to plan for your future in care of magical creatures _inside?"_

"Can't you appreciate anything?" Ginny asked, sounding faintly exasperated. 

"It's nothing you haven't seen before," he shrugged. 

She bristled. "So?"

          He said nothing for a moment, the air growing ripe with an unfamiliar tension. In the silence, his stomach groaned and as fast as it had come, the tension was gone. Ginny seemed to deflate, and the world righted itself once again. 

"Hungry?" she raised a brow.

"Starved. In fact, I think it might be in the best interest of the horses if we headed in to eat." 

"Oh, alright." She looped her arm through his, as they trudged towards the entryway. "Only to save the poor things from your ravenous appetite."

"Since when have you been all for animal rights?" he asked teasingly.

"Since always. You've just never noticed before."

"Hm. Well, as long as you don't start growing a great black beard…"

Ginny laughed and smacked his shoulder.

          The quill pen moved across the parchment for a few brief lines, then stopped abruptly. The nib began to beat a tattoo against the page, and then it was off again, scribbling out the words slowly, as if unsure. The room was silent beyond the scratching of the pen against parchment and the crackle of the fire. 

          Ginny Weasley sat at the writing desk in the corner of her room, her eyes fixed on the parchment in front of her. Absently, she raised the pen to her mouth to nibble on it. Of course, she was writing with a quill, which were generally not fit to nibble on unless they were one of the sugar ones from Zonko's sweet shop. Alas, this one was not. 

Ginny frowned and spit out a small plume that had attached itself to her tongue, wrinkling her nose at the feathered quill. Stupid thing. Why wasn't she using a pencil for this anyway? Immediately she began to rummage through the drawer on her right for a more comfortable writing instrument. But when she found one she was still faced with the same predicament. What to write? Or more accurately, whether to write at all.

It wasn't something she should be doing, or even something she wanted to do, but… she couldn't help herself. She needed to do _something_. Whether it was productive or not hardly mattered. She just needed to get it out on paper – then she could crumple it into a ball and toss it in the fire and hopefully that would make her feel better. And make her stop thinking about it.

Reluctantly, Ginny forced herself to reread what she had written so far. She only got as far as the title.

_Things to do Before I Die_

On impulse she scribbled over it with her pencil, though it did little to hide the more prominent ink, and re-wrote the title.

_Life Goals _

Was what it now read. That sounded better. 

Yes, she knew it wasn't likely, and even to her the possibility had become a little unreal, but it still sat like a hulking, stinking… thing in the back of her mind, and she wanted it out. Not only was it an unwelcome prospect, it seemed to create a harsh under-current between her and Draco.

 There were no major changes between them, but there were things now that they just couldn't say to each other without ruffling each other's fur. Not that they had always gotten along perfectly, sometimes, far from it. This, though, this was different. And she didn't like it, not one bit.

Ginny wasn't sure if Draco had noticed it yet; it was awfully subtle. 

She blew out a breath and chewed on her eraser slowly, her mind working over the problem in low gear. So lost in her thoughts was she, that she didn't hear when the door opened behind her. 

"Still working on homework? You're becoming a bookworm right before my eyes."

At the sound of Draco's voice, Ginny jumped, whirling in her chair. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw who it was.

"You prat," she addressed him, not unkindly, "you startled me."  

"Oh, is that all?" He leaned against the door-jamb nonchalantly. "Don't tell me you're not pleased to see me."  

Draco's hair was slightly mussed and soggy, and his robes were clean and immaculate as ever, though he managed to make it look casual. He had just showered, she guessed, after coming in from quidditch practice. His cheeks and nose were slightly flushed from the combination, but it looked good on him.  

Ginny snorted. "Not on your life," she said, rising to meet him as he crossed the room.  

"What are you working on?" Draco asked. He didn't wait for her to answer before picking up her parchment and scanning the first few lines. Instantly his brows shot up, and he leveled his gaze at her over the top of the paper. There was a moment of silence in which Ginny wondered if her stupid list had angered him somehow, but it was too late to wish she had never made it. All she could do was wait, not quite sure what to expect.

"I didn't know you were still on about that…" was what he finally said. She didn't know why, but the comment sort of rubbed her the wrong way.

"Well, I am," sniffed Ginny. "And I suppose you've already forgotten the whole thing."

The look Draco gave her was slightly incredulous. "I've certainly been trying to."

 That comment _really rubbed her the wrong way. Her voice rose just a little. "Don't you care about anything?"_

"What's there to care about?"

She paused. What was there to care about? _What was there to care about?_

"I… I don't know! Me… this… everything… I don't know…" Ginny trailed off, frowning into the floor and chewing vacantly on her thumb. The black heads of Draco's shoes came into view, and suddenly he seemed a lot closer than before. "I don't know," she murmured into his chest as he enfolded her in his arms. "I just… I don't want to fight with you."

"Then don't." His tone was light, teasing, exactly what she needed. She scoffed and cuffed him lightly on the head with a watery smile.

"As if it's my fault you're so unpleasant."  

"It is. I'm afraid you've rubbed off on me."

She breathed her laughter into his robes, and even though everything seemed all right for the moment, they held onto each other for a long time afterwards.

A/N: I got my first flame! It made me laugh… anyway, not much happening in this chapter, but it is a bit longer than usual. Sorry for the long delay… I know it's unforgivable, but please bear with me. I will finish this! Hopefully before Christmas… Thanks to everyone who reviewed!!  


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